


The Scarlet Cord

by leogrl19



Category: Tales of Berseria
Genre: CAN'T just be ME, Even if, F/F, My bologna has a first name: Its Velvet&Niko, What-If, because reasons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-25
Updated: 2017-05-04
Packaged: 2018-09-26 19:32:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9918980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leogrl19/pseuds/leogrl19
Summary: Memories, Vengeance, and Three, Long Years...





	1. They Meet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I the ONLY ONE, who WISHED, this game—and, more specifically: main party—had the ‘childhood friend’, character? I’ve watched videos, and I couldn’t help feeling a real OPPORTUNITY was missed, killing off Niko(Velvet’s gal pal via prologue), like they did.  
> Yes, yes: Tragic heroine is TRAGIC—but, the POTENTIAL!!!!!
> 
> Anyway. Can't stop thinking about it: Every scene and situation, I imagine Niko’s thoughts and actions — it's too late for me, kids — so, HERE WE GO.  
> Nope: Not doing a full recount of everything in this BEHEMOTH of a game, but drabbles are always fun. Hopefully, it’s a treat, for any likeminded individuals, out there~

* * *

 

 

“Vel…” air; **_gnarled_** , in the center of her chest, “— _Velvet_!”

Gold eyes—shift:

Catch,

— _Hitch_.

She _runs_ —

_Dashes_ ; into the crowd, into a side road — another; another:

(A **mistake** ;)

Until. The, labyrinth of Loegres, _consumes_ , _her_ …

( ** _Mistake_**.)

—A hand, _slams_ her, to a wall;

Jerks her— _forward_ ,

_Hitch_.

(…Isn’t mistaken.)

“…Velvet.”

Golden eyes(Ones, she‘d know, _anywhere_ …); _scrutinize_ ;

“Niko.”

But, the voice, is **harder** , now—(Is, hers, **different** , as well?)—does not, _match_ : _Memories_ ,

She barely, **_recognizes_** , it….

“You’re…”

( _Alive_.)

**_How_**?

( _Three_   _years_ …)

Could not, _imagine_ —

“What are you doing here?” Those eyes, narrow.

It comes, as an **accusation**.

(—Did she, expect, ‘softer’? ‘ ** _More_** ’?)It is so, _inconceivable_ , she held, none, at all. “‘What’,” dazed; beyond, the smack, to stone. Her mind catches _up_. “Selling remedies. I’m a traveling apothecary. ‘Hello’ to you, too, by the way.” _Winces_. “Could you…let _go_?”

A slight, ascent, in ebony brows; the woman looks, down, at the hand(bandaged) on her shoulder; _crushing_ ; as if _surprised_ —

Releases.

(The hand: _shakes_ )

Is, tucked, away.

“Why did you run?”

**Another**.

“Someone chased me…” Why, _did_ , she run?(The only thing, she wanted, more, than _escape_ , was:  **Closer** …). A step, away, from the wall; Niko, rolls, the, victimized, shoulder— _swears_ , she feels, the forming bruise. “Thought, I’d made a fool of myself. A girl, with black hair and gold eyes—it’s not like it was a guarantee—especially, with you, wearing, _that_.” A small, grunt, of irritation; the other woman, eyes, the ground, with clenched teeth(…It almost makes her smile)

Almost.

Step. “I thought you died.”

“I did.” ( _Winces_ —despite, the obvious discrepancy)Velvet, stares, unmoved. “Or, I might as well, have.” Crossed arms. “I’m not, who, you knew.”

“Neither am I.” The raised brow, is ignored(Notices: The other, does not back away; _stares_ ). “The people, you traveled, with; won’t they be worried?”

“No.” Pause. Something— _fleeting_ — “How did you get out?”

“How did you?” Silence. “Remember," (…The dogs); "Orthie and Russ? My, cowardly ‘bodyguards’… Turns out, you were right: Useless their entire lives — scared of their own shadows; except. Then.” Crooked lips. “They were still shivering, of course; didn’t stand a chance; but, they fought off a group of daemons. And, bought, enough time. For me, to run away.” ( _Important_ )Three years—and, it still, makes her **_ache_** …. “…I tried to find you,” Nothing, _else_ , comes, after.

A burning throat.

“Better that you didn’t.”

Her hand, _clenches_. “ _Why_ , would you, _say_ , _that_?”

Sharp eyes. “Artorius would have just killed you, too.”

“Your;” Niko blinks; furrowed brows(the gnarled, **knot** , in her chest), “brother—”

“ _He is, not, my brother_!”

— _Hitch_.

A bandaged fist; cracks, in stone. She, eyes it, _incredulously_ ; falters, back —

The pure, white **_rage_** (—she’s never, **_seen_** , **_it_** ), making, her blood run cold.

Silence.

Velvet: retracts; bites, a lip, _fiercely_ ;

—Turns away.

Niko swallows. (Breathes.) “Velvet.” _Tense_ ; _squared_ shoulders. “What did he do?”

“…Murdered Laphicet.”

Her eyes, close, beyond her will.

(… _What_?)

Does not, seem, **possible** (The man, her friend, had  _adored_ ;

**_relentlessly_** ; defended…)

—But.

**Knows** : The _Cruelty_ , of this world.

(Believes; the person she, knew.)

**Still**.

“I’m coming with you.”

“No.” A single eye. “You’re not.”

“Don’t believe in fate?” (Smirks.) “You never, were, one, for 'romance'.” Hears: a scoff. “I find you, after three years of nothing, and you think—what? I’ll be on my merry way? Pretend, _this_ , never happened?” Two steps—to the woman; _turns_ , until, they're facing. “If nothing else; for what we, used, to be.”

Silence

(The naked— _fleeting_ …)

Her hand is shrugged off. “Do whatever you want.”

A smile(can’t, **remember** ; it, so _easy_ ): “Bit, contrary, in your old age, huh?”

(No answer.)Velvet, walks, away;

**Stops**.

“Your eyes.” A stoic back. “They’re different.”

“What’s up with your arm?” Takes it, in hand(—and, she’s **_real_**.) Runs: a nail, down loose dressings. “If it’s disease, I can offer, professional, advice.”

Silence.

( _Surprise_ —it isn’t, **_snatched_** , _away_ )

“I’m a daemon.”

Pause. “ _Manushya-Rakshasi._ ”

A backward glance. “What?”

“My ‘type’.” Shifts; auburn locks, over a shoulder. “Hence: ‘Traveling’.”

Grins: Wide enough, to reveal, curved fangs.

…A single nod. “ _Therion_.”

“At least we have our good looks.”

(—And, that’s _all_. 

All the **time** , it needs.)

“Niko.” ( ** _Vengeance_**.)Cold, golden orbs. The bandaged hand, is withdrawn. “I, will, _kill_ _him_.”

(‘ _You can’_ t **_stop_** _me_ ’.)

This time, the other, doesn't stop. Keeps walking.

(A breath.) A nod:

“I know.”

Follows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m really interested in the daemons, humans turn into from their motivations(i.e. Rokurou a ‘yaksha’/war demon, from his obsession to get stronger and defeat his brother). As well as the sacrifices, tied, with it.  
> Do a little research if you’re into it, but freebie: 'Asuri'(knowledgeable herbalist/seductress) and 'Rakshasi'(man-eater), could be, interchangeable. I really *DIG*, that, duality.


	2. All The Old Places

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys—GUYS. I hadn’t finished the game, when I wrote first chapter, but, OH MY SWEET JELLY BEAN: the MID-END(systematic Velvet breakdown), was AMAAAZE BAAALLS. MAJOR props to her VA. Actual, end-end, left me unsatisfied, but can’t be helped, since I’ve added a Niko~
> 
> Speaking of: this chapter(and, the entire fic, really), is all about, taking, that cute image of Niko, you all have in your heads, and utterly obliterating it. *Poof* Magikazam. Velvet changed; Niko has too. Another opportunity, missed, imo, that they didn’t even age her, during, illusion bit. Still! Mid-end got me *pumped*. The very *thought* of a person who knew old Velvet, in those scenes, makes me all *aquiver*…. This one’s Velvet’s POV. Also: note the rating change. Kid gloves are off. Dark, themes, ahead.

* * *

 

“So;” Magilou’s hand slips to a hip, as she leans in— _inspecting_ ; “this, is the latest addition to our motley troupe of ragamuffins, is it?”

“…‘Ragamuffins’?” A bewildered echo. Pause. “Wait—can I eat it?”

“Silly, _Rokurou_. ‘Ragamuffins’ refers to our dysfunctional, little clan, of _course_ ~”

“‘Clan’, huh?” He stares flatly. “Does that mean you’ll actually stick around this time, instead of prancing off, on a whim, like you always do?”

“Oh, pish posh! Introductions are _far_ more important than mere trivialities as loyalty and obligation!” Narrowed eyes. “And I don’t ‘prance’.” The witch(?) turns back to her target with a grand sweep of her arm. “Welcome! To Magilou’s Menagerie, o’ aspiring apprentice of mine! I respond to: ‘Mistress Mazhigigka’, ‘Magilou-the-Splendiferous’, and well-timed bribes.”

Their eyes, meet(…still. Can read the _quirk_ of that brow; the full  _Appraisal_ …); Niko smiles. “Wow, Velvet. You’ve certainly associated yourself with… quite the character.”

“‘ _Character_ ’?” Magilou’s arms stretch dramatically. “Why, I simply won’t accept such slander! I am a witch, most treacherous and foul—nothing more and nothing less. Best, guess — but, I digress.” Velvet groans; already feels: the _pinch_  of a headache, as the witch’s finger lands squarely in her direction. “I spy, with my little toe, a story here…Besides already being on a first-name basis; you didn’t act nearly as warm and cuddly with me. _Dashing_ through crowds and alleyways….” A glance to the malak(…Laphicet), she stole in Hellawes. “Or, is she, merely, another stray?”

A tightened fist. “Does it matter?”

“Not really, no.” Pink-clad arms cross behind her head. “It’s not as if I truly care.” Her gaze falls back to Niko. “You, my dear, will be sixth; after our pirate Reaper and his charming curse.”

Rokurou scratches his head. “…There’s seven of us.”

“The lizard doesn’t count.”

“ _Hey_!”

Niko chuckles(the **Sound** ; makes something in her gut— ** _wrench_** ); “Well. If we’re being technical, here—I’m _first_. Seeing as I’ve known, this one,” a nod her way, “the longest.”

Velvet crosses her arms;

(Still. Can’t  _believe_ …)

It doesn’t matter.

“She’s with us now.”

And that’s the **End** of it.

“‘Longest’…?” (An unexpected voice,)Laphicet speaks up, only to swiftly look to the deck the moment their gazes cross.

The _smile_ on Niko’s face only grows(Was she— _enjoying_ , this?): “We’re childhood friends. Same village and everything.” Winks. “Funny how that works out, isn’t it?”

“Whoa— _hold_ _it_ —you _knew_   _Velvet_  when she was a _kid_?” Rokurou gapes—before breaking into a grin. “What was she like? Was she cute?”

“ _Very_.”

Her arms  _clinch_ , _tighter_ (Doesn’t know  **Why**  she feels the  _stirrings_  of:  ** _Embarrassment_** …

_Useless_.)

“I’d… like to know, too.” Laphicet presses, twiddling his thumbs guiltily.

Niko looks her way;(a **_scowl_** , takes hold, almost Immediately):

“—Not. Like that.”

“Oh, _come_ _on_! You _must_ have more on her than _that_.” The swordsman sidles up next to her, waggling a brow. “Give me all the _juicy_ details.”

“Why, yes!” Magilou claps both hands together. “I, too, long to hear of performances past, that will outshine the _brilliant_ , ‘coo, coo’!”

“I admit,” Eizen pops out of nowhere; arms folded. Leaning against the Van Eltia’s sturdy rail, “I’m fairly curious myself, given that cantankerous disposition of hers.”

(… _‘Cantankerous_ ’?)

Feels. Her face  _Twitch_.

“ _Hmm_ …” Niko curves a finger to her jaw, “There _was_ the time she went prickleboar hunting and the pants she wore—”

A **_seized_** arm. “ _Stop_. _Talking_.”

Lashes  _bat_  innocently. “Too soon?”

“Is it ‘ _too_ _soon_ ’ to tell them of the time you made cookies for the apprentice boy you liked, mistook an herb for a spice and made him—”

“All right—fine! You sore loser.”

(But, she’s all _Smiles_ …)

Velvet exhales — _grits_   _teeth_ ;

(— ** _Nonsense_**.)

Looses the limb she captured. And walks away.

**Catches** :

“ _They’re… childhood friends, right_?” Rokurou. _“So, why doesn’t it feel like a happy reunion?”_

—Because it **isn’t**.

( **Nothing** has **_Changed_**.)

She draws a bandaged fist; releases — _clenches_ , _again_.

That **person**. Looking at **her** —every  _glance_

… _Overwhelming_ ….

(… ** _Agonizing_**.)

She. is

_Everything_

**Lost**.

But, it’s **_different_** —it **isn’t** _her_ —those eyes, **_different_** ; once: the shade of budding lilac.  _Now_ , the color of _**spilt**_   **blood** ….

( **Dead**.

The ‘Niko’ she knew is **dead**.)

Along; with the naive _**thing**_ ; she used to be.

_Clench_.

(Why. **_Can’t_**. _She_ —)

“So,” _soft_ ; from behind(it. is: **_Insidious_** …)—a **weight**  she can’t _un_ - **know** , “‘coo, coo’?”

_Grimaces_ ;

Doesn’t turn from the sea.

( ** _Dead_** —she’s **dead** ; they’re **dead** )

“…Velvet—”

“They all like to pry in other people’s business.” Casts aside immeasurable _blue_ ; looks the woman in the eye. “Don’t say more than you have to.”

(A Pensive look—and it's gone)Niko nods. “But, I do like it. That I have that Claim to you.” Those eyes stare, **back** , as openly(Can’t **_Understand_** ; how they’re **_different_** —

_Same_ ). “You really don’t understand a woman’s heart: I was bragging;” _step_ , “No one knows you better than me.” A sharp  _push_  of air(… _Weakness_ ); auburn brows; dip low. “Though, I don't know you, at all, now. That’s why it's so important.”

(—Doesn’t know what to _say_ to that.)

Chooses: **Nothing**.

“For example:” Niko  _Fills_  the silence, “I never would have thought, you, the pirate type.” A smile. “You seemed so content with small-village living.”

“I was.” _Clench_. “Until _Artorius_ ripped it all away.”

_Grunts_ ;

( **Again**. Emotions — too _loose_

Like water set to _boil_ … And. She’s _barely_   _able_ —to **Stop**.  _Limbs_  from _shaking_ …)

“I. Hardly believed it; what you said about Laphicet… Yet. A part of me: _could_.” Velvet eyes her sharply; fingers, _clutch_ , at either elbow. “There was always… this. Coldness. As if, he wasn’t really _there_. In the moment. As if, he was always looking…somewhere, afar….” Hands fall to either side of her dress. “That night: When I made it to Taliesin; a lot of the people there looked: Shocked—guilty. Enough to admit ‘Artorius’ planned to save  _them_ , all along. And Aball. Was a ‘sacrifice’.” A Raw Pause. “For ‘the greater good’.”

— ** _Shift_**. **Recognizes** : the _Edge_ ; to that tone—

( ** _Bitterness_** …

The **Loss** of _Innocence_.)

“‘Logic and _reason_ ’.” **_Bit_**. _Through_   _teeth_ :

(Isn’t _surprised_ ;)

Knows,  ** _Exactly_** , what **that** **man**  is _Capable Of_ …

“Velvet.” (— _Jolts_ ;)Those( ** _different_** )eyes, lock on her; hold her **hostage** (— _Touch_ …

… ** _Pain_**.)

“Where  _were_   _you_?”

(Slow; distant: The  **ache**  in her chest.) “One thousand ninety-five.” The other’s brow  _furrows_ ; (she sees: **_Darkness_** …) “Three years.” … _Realization_ ; “ Locked away in a black _pit_. Devouring countless daemons.”

At First: She cried;

Then  _screamed_ —

(hoped)

Then. She was **silent**.

(Until, all she— ** _Knew_** :

**_Vengeance_** ;

_drip_ , _drip_ , _drip_ ,

the _clank_. Of the old grate, above her;

The fall of fresh _prey_.

**Substance**.

( **Blood** and **_Darkness_** …)

Arms — _reach_ ; _wrap_  the expanse of her back:

_Pull_ _her_ _in_ —

(… _Warmth_ …)

Doesn’t: _Reciprocate_.

( _ **Can't**_ —)

_Stunned_

(… **_Hates_**. The **_Gnarled_** , **_Twisted_** **Part** ; that thought it, an **_Attack_** —)

“When was the last time you had this?” _Murmured_ ; in her ear — Comes  _ **Back**_  to herself. Realizes, the other is _shaking_. “Three years… Without human contact…” 

Hears: the unspoken question

(‘ _How are you_ ** _Sane_**?’

_Isn't_.)

Velvet's lips part( _swallows_ ); her fingers, _twitch_ , _restlessly_ , “ _I_ ,” — the word— _sticks_ ; to the back of her throat. “Survived.”

Hair strikes her cheek and neck, no longer held in ribboned pigtails — freed. In auburn waves. Smells; the wildflowers and branches, _twined_. Into the wreath around Niko's head.

(Can’t help but notice: the additional _Fullness_. The curves that _arc_ , more pronounced)

Velvet pushes away—

Steps back.

“How did you become a daemon?”

(Sad eyes—did she _imagine_ it?)The hands are retracted; pressed to the dark green of shifting skirt. “How else is a girl fit to survive all alone in this world?” Looks; to the sea behind her. “Can’t say ‘how’—or even ‘when’, really… Though; I could probably wager: ‘why’.”

Narrowed eyes.

“That ‘guilt’, back in Taliesin? Made it easy to find a ship and a willing crew; for a girl who just lost everything. Needing to get as far away as she could….” The other woman sighs. “Unfortunately, ‘guilt’ only carried so far. And they booted me off the second they set anchor. Which meant _getting_   _to_  an actual town or city, on my own.” A beat. Niko smiles(a— _turn_. She’s never _seen_ ). “I don’t remember much: A group of bandits; not having the option to escape. To fight. The air knocked out of me when thrown to something hard. Hands…”

— ** _Disgust_** ;

( _Nausea_ )

**_Grips_** ; the ship’s rail—until it _creaks_ …

_Splinters_ ;

(Tastes: **Blood**.)

— **Nothing**. There was **nothing** she could **_do_** — Hadn’t even _known_  the other was  _Alive_ ….

(One of her more  _Useless_  sentiments:

Wanting to  **Save** ; outside her realm of control.)

_When she **Couldn't**_ —

"I don't feel those things anymore."

Dead eyes

— ** _Sinister_**.

Her hand  _clenches_ , _**harder**_.

“I lost consciousness.” ( _No_ _trace_. Of the **_horrors_** , _breathed_ , just before.) “When I woke; there was red. Severed limbs; mauled faces; everything below the waist, crushed. Into this unrecognizable, paste.” Those eyes( _Pleasure_?), close. “Sadly; I wasn’t far off. A daemon still bleeds. At that point I was dying.”

Velvet(Denies; the **_pang_** …) “And?”

“I survived.” A smile. “The next I opened my eyes, I was in an unfamiliar bed. An old apothecary had found me, nursed me back to health.”

“…They trained you.”

Niko parts from the edge; breathes in deep. And stretches both arms. “Come here.”

_Tenses_. “What?”

“So suspicious!" Her expression doesn't **Shift** ; a tsk. "Real daemons don't let other daemons let themselves go.” From some hidden compartment in the woman's dress, a comb is produced. “Your hair has always been a mess. It sorta works for you, now, though…”

Another— _shift_.

( ** _Lets_**  her.)

“‘Now’?”

The comb is waved from side to side. “You’ve got this whole, ‘ _Don’t mess with me: I’m a badass_ ’,”—a _Ridiculous_ voice—“vibe going for you, now.” Those eyes, _flick_. **Dangerously**. “It’s. Kinda hot.”

( ** _Despite_** herself) _Warmth_ ; to her cheeks.

—Thinks, she spots the beginnings of a _smirk_ ,

**_Scowls_**.

(Of all the _useless_ emotions to be allowed to _**Keep**_.)

Sigh. “You don’t laugh as much as you used to."

**No**. She doesn’t.

Silence.

Niko looks away(and, there’s a _Sadness_ )

“…My throat hurts; when I talk too much.”

(True. 

_Unnecessary_.)

A nod(— ** _understanding_** ). “I’ll make you a relaxant later.”

The comb goes through her hair roughly(Can’t remember; the last time she took part in something so _Frivolous_ …)—doesn’t breathe a word of complaint.

The other: Patient.

…Her shoulders settle.

(Always— **Good**. At defusing her; picking up on her Roiling _Anger_ and— **Halting** **It**.  **Completely**.)

“Niko.” The woman  _hums_  an acknowledgement. “Why do you think birds fly?”

The comb; rests. “What else would they do?" 

_Resumes_.

Doesn’t respond.

(Smiles.)


	3. Quarter-Truths

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Seduction' is mind, before body; my image of ‘daemon Niko’ is constantly evolving. But. I like the idea of daemons who specialize in psychological play(torture?); beyond: mere physical(Anyone can make a person bleed)… Isn’t that *Interesting*~?

 

* * *

 

_“You.” Red brows crook; perplexed. A bit lip. “Seem so normal.”_

_“That’s what makes me dangerous.” A smile. To the other woman(_ exorcist _), who followed them through. “Would it be Easier to hate, if I were a disfigured beast?” Appreciates—better than anyone: **Looks**. As _ ** _Deceiving_** _…. Eleanor frowns. “What is ‘normal’?”_

_“Not senselessly bloodthirsty. Or relishing untold destruction.” A clenched fist. “Unlike the daemon Velvet.”_

_“But, I don’t stop her either.” In fact: She helps(—_ **_helps_** _; until she breathes her last…). “Any of them. Doesn’t that make Me, worst of all?” Green eyes stare, incredulous. “Though. I’m fairly sure, even with all the transgressions on our end; your Abbey still wins ‘bloodiest hands’.”_

_A scoff. “Typical daemon heresy.”_

_“I wonder…”_

* * *

 

A downward glance; the woman breathing faintly—yet steadily—against stone tiles, blanketed with moss.

“ _Whoooaaa_ …” Bienfu leaps a clear foot off the ground—Astonished. Totters over to lay a tiny paw against a pale forehead. “You actually did it! Her bad-bad fever’s  _way_ _lower_  than it was before! And only with a couple of plants!”

Niko straightens; collects pestle and mortar with a small smile. “And I bet you thought this crown of flowers was just for show.”

“I’ll _never_  underestimate you again!”

“Same.” The malak’s head falls, despondent. “What I’ve given her should ease the discomfort, as well. If I had access to more herbs—or even knew where we were right now—I could offer something to help with the disorientation once she wakes…”

“Don’t you worry: this is more than enough! Far better than anything those other coldhearted brutes did for Madam Eleanor!” His hat tips Accusingly. “She may be ‘the enemy’, but I know, firsthand, how good a person she is. There isn’t an insincere bone in her body.”

“Hm…”

Bienfu grins up at her, chest puffed out proudly. “You should get some rest! I’ll take over from here!”

“I don’t know;” a finger tapped against cheek, “it would be such a _waste_ , to expend all that effort, only to let her die now…”

“ _Bieeeeeeennn_!”

( _Laughter_ —it  _too fun_ , to tease the adorable, little creature.)

“I’ll-I’ll make sure to let you know if anything comes up!”

“Please do.” A—push. Off slightly damp stone; bends to brush her knees. “I’ll look into finding drinkable water so she can stay hydrated. If a civilization did live here, at some point, there must be a source nearby.” Eyes; the wall behind her and grazes downy green. “And, if there’s moss, there’s moisture.”

“Why’s that?”

“It needs it to reproduce.” The malak reddens( _adorable_ ), muttering something about ‘needing to write that down’. “Behave, little Bienfu.”

“What?” He brings both arms to his hips, as if offended. “I’m the perfect gentle-malak!”

Another smile: gaze falling to the exorcist, once more; before taking her leave.

(‘The enemy’…)

It haunts her;

a sharp, **discordant** _chord_ —

 _Clashes_ of steel;

Howls of **_Pain_**.

(Cold, remote eyes…)

Again— **_Again_** —

 _Cut_ ; after _cut_ ; after _cut_ … And, the woman would just— _Dive_   ** _Back_** , into the _fray_ ….

A hand to her chest.

“ _You always did have a temper_ …”

 _Curled_  fingers;

(This. Foreign; faraway feeling… A lesser shade—an echo:

Only with **her**.)

 _Velvet_.

Brings her free hand to an ancient column— _leans_ ; into sharply chiseled stone; precise, geometric shapes…

 _How_? Could ‘The _Shepherd_ ’; strike her down so **_Mercilessly_**

(—Weren’t they: _Family_?)

Knows. Even if she couldn’t  _fathom_  Velvet’s words, _before_ —

 _Can_ :  **Now**.

Niko lowers to a crouch: peers; into the small reveal between wall and floor, filled with various stalks of plant life. Seemingly wild, yet…

“You should be sleeping.”

 _Smiles_ ; at the **Voice** (—the _scent_ : **blood** and _singed_ **leather).** “That. Sounded awfully close to Overwhelming Concern.” Glances: to catch an irritated look. “Do you see these plants? At first, I thought they were simply nature taking hold after so many years of disuse — but, from the uniformity… It looks Planned. Not only were they cultivated to thrive in low light, but these aquatic variants filter the water in which, they grow.”

 _Fascinating_.

“You sound like Eizen.” (Can practically  _Hear_  the _scowl_ ), “What — are you saying we can drink it?”

She collects a sample of water; rises to full height. “All right, Grumpy— _yes_. Put, crudely:” an embellished frown, “‘We can drink it’. And, Bonus: It won’t kill you.”

(Yep. There’s a scowl.) “Then, just say _that_.”

“I wanted to impress you. Naturally.” (And now the scowl is  ** _Deeper_** ;) A light step. From the floor’s edge. “Maybe. This place is rubbing off on me…. It’s beautiful, isn’t it? An underground temple built for an ancient god…” Looks: to impossibly high ceilings….

Back. To golden eyes.

(—a  _Shiver_ ;)

“I can’t calm down.”

Silence.

(But, she doesn’t  _mind_ _it_ ;

Thinks. It  **Real**.)

“How are your wounds?” ( _Examines_ —every area she _can_ —even as she asks.)

A Decisive hand. Set on her hip. “I’m fine; Laphicet did his job.”

Chooses: To smile(…Unsure; still. How she feels about the malakhim who has her dead brother’s name.)

That it was:  ** _Relinquished_** —so _easily_ …

(Is he, _More_ , than a cheap  **substitution**?

A _Crutch_?

Instead): “He wasn’t the only one.” Velvet cocks a brow. “Who didn't want you to die.” (Those eyes— _snap_ , elsewhere)Niko closes in: Brings a hand to naked abdomen(— _tensed_ ); skin slightly cool to the touch. “Right here.” ( ** _Ache_** …)her fingers, _press_ , “A sword, went through you.” The figure— _impaled_ — _does not_ **_leave_** her **mind**. “And, you just kept fighting…”

“I’ll do  _whatever it takes_.” _Vicious_ coldness(And she **knows** the woman  ** _Means_** **it**.). “Artorius—Innominat; the Abbey — I’ll _kill_ _them_ _all_.”

…Falters: “Are you fighting to die?”

“I’m fighting to avenge  _Laphi_.”

“—And then?”

A _clamped_ jaw.

Velvet backs from her touch; mouth, turned, in an ugly grimace. “How is she?”

 **Switch**. (Catches: The reference—immediately.) “Immensely strong-willed.” The vial of water, shifts; between her fingers. “And quite noble.”

“She’s a _coward_.” _Snapped_. “Who wouldn't have a thought of her own if her precious ‘ _Abbey_ ’ didn’t  _give_ _it_  to _her_.”

Niko smiles. “You were idealistic, like that, once.”

 _Twitch_. “… _Exactly_.”

“Well: I could never forgive _anyone_  who tried to kill you. Still—” _taps_  glass; “Don’t you find it Interesting? How she was outside the temple before any of us; yet, waited. How she wouldn't use a newly obtained malak during your duel. How she was even willing to take her own life, to keep her oath to you.” Stilled fingers. “That kind of—Integrity… is rare.” The other’s expression  ** _Darkens_**. “While we were in the earthpulse; she insisted we stay together. Made it a priority to find you and the others.”

“So she’d have trophies to bring back to Artorius.” **Disgust**. _Condescension_. “If the opportunity presented itself: she’d betray us all without a _second thought.”_

Another smile(—doesn’t:  ** _Disagree_** ). “I had to sacrifice a few flowers,” a hand; to a sparse patch of leaves, “but she should be fine.”

A curt nod. “We lose her; we lose Laphicet—I won’t let that happen.” A beat. Two. That golden gaze; fixed on her hair. “Will any flowers work?”

“Well, I’m a girl, Velvet; I do have standards.”

(—Thinks: it  **must** be the dim lighting; a _trick_ , her eyes are playing _against_ _her_

… **But**. _Swears_. She sees those stoic lips, _Turn_ ….)

The face shifts away. “I went outside to find Laphicet, earlier; there were some flowers. On top of a hill.”

“I take it all back:” _smirks_ , “You  _can_  be romantic.”

A departing form.

They walk in silence.

Behind; her eyes—can’t help but trail the woman before her: The tall, imposing frame; jet black strands( _disheveled_ ), down to her ankles. Layers upon layers of belts and restraints… As if, attempting to hold her _together_ ….

Isn’t fooled.

( ** _Brokenness_** …)

 _Sees_ —the _cracks_ ;

All that  _sustains_   _her_ —

( **Retribution**.)

“Your hands.” (— _Snatched_. From the reverie)Velvet regards her arm, riddled with bandages, before glancing back. “When you fight; they’re like mine, but different.”

Smiles(And there’s, **still** , dried blood on her fingertips…): Releases. Sharp, spindly claws; _gnarled_. Like the roots of trees. “No teeth though.” Presents: a still fleshy palm. “I can’t devour like you.” _Flexes_. “It’s more…shapeshifting. Augmenting different parts of my body, at will.” A fang, _slips_ , from spread lips. “I often coat them with poison…”

(No— **Look**. To the abdomen she  _touched_  mere _moments_  ago;

Wonders: If it’s **Trust** or _Indifference_ ….)

“You can do more than your hands?”

“Any. Part. Of my body.” Holds. Velvet's gaze. “You didn’t notice how I shifted the muscular composition of my legs, before we fought?”

The other woman looks to the thighs, _exposed_. By tailored slits in her dress’ skirt(—a second, _too_   _long_ )—Flicks—away. “No.”

“ _Hm_.” **Low** ; in her throat. “You were fairly preoccupied at the time.” Claws regress to fingers(so _seamless_ —one would never know, _otherwise_ ). “What will you do with her?”

“Nothing.” Metal-clad feet, _sound_ , against stone as she continues forward. “At least, until we find a new vessel.”

“He trusts her.”

Pause. “I’m the reason any of this was necessary in the first place.” A _tight_ fist. “Laphicet kept healing me. Even when he was at his limit. Because of that…”

 _Steps_ —to walk side-by-side. “He really cares about you.”

Her jaw tenses. “I don’t know why.”

“I do.” (Those eyes stay **Forward**.) “You’re lovable. In a certain light.”

“I’m _alive_.” The fist slackens. “And we’re stuck with her. For now.”

“ _Ah_.”

A **dark** look. “What?”

“It all makes sense. The ire—the even  _worse_ , mood.” Curled lips. “You’re moping.”

“You too?” Niko raises a brow, mouth curved in an interested ‘O’; a **grimace**. “Rokurou said the same thing.”

“Then, it must be true.” A scoff.(A slight in-step,)and their shoulders brush. “I wasn’t sure you still knew how to pout.”

“…If an exorcist is corrupted, its malakhim will be, too.” (She hadn’t known that); dipped brows. “We need to keep her close.”

“Friends, close; enemies, closer…” turns; into the next corridor, “I suppose. I’ll have to get to know Eleanor better, then.” **Silence**. (A _smile_.) “Oh, now you’re _really_  pouting.”

An annoyed Twitch. “I’m _not_.”

 _Grabs_ —a hand; stops her. “Velvet.” Delves; **deep**. Into golden pools. “You’ll always be my _first_ …”

An _Exasperated_  Breath;

—her hand is tossed away.

 _Laughter_  echoes ruin walls; the entrance to the temple is pried open.

The fresh air of the valley hits her with rolling _force_ ; quickly dispelling the stagnant musk of an ancient interior.

A deep _breath_ :

A smile. “It must be nice. Having such clearly defined ‘right’ and ‘wrong’.” (As _ignorant_ , it may be…) “Don’t you remember that?” A sideways glance. “Having One truth?”

“Why are you doing this?” **Anger**. Bared teeth. “We’re both daemons — any old obligation we once had to the other is _gone_.” ( ** _Ache_** …); Cold eyes. “Nothing good lies in following me — why waste your _time_?”

“Because, it’s mine to waste.” (Never known: such  **Simple** …). “Because: I want to be with you.”

Gold eyes, falter—a **_fiercely_** bit _lip_. “You’re not going to ask what I’ll do next? If I have a _plan_?” _Trembling_ fists. “If I’ve _given_ _up_?”

“You’re being insulting. As if I don’t know you better;” reaches. A hand to clutch the loose braid over her shoulder, “How stubborn you are…” slate brows, _warp_ , further, “I’d be worried if you  _did_  give up easily.”

Release. _Clench_. “I didn’t have the _slightest clue_  what we were up against. I couldn’t lay a _finger_  on Artorius… And now there’s ‘ _Innominat_ ’…” **_Curses_**. Looks to the ground. _Sneers_. “Magilou has a 100 gald on them breaking me.”

“Then, I’ll bet two you break _them_.” Props: paired fingers. “Easy gald.”

Huffs. “You’re that confident?”

“Yes.” Watches: The _inhale_ ; slightly widened eyes… Niko taps a finger under chin. “You’re not the only one who’s stubborn.” A smirk. “Have you ever known me to back off once I’ve committed?” _Lifts_ : it Higher; “I don’t plan on letting you slip through my fingers again….”

A beat. “Don’t you have anyone to go back to?”

“No.” The other stares in disbelief. “The apothecary who saved me died a year ago.”

Turns. “…I’m sorry.”

“It was a natural death.” (The very  **Concept**  feels —  _Rare_ …

 _Precious_ …) “And. I’ve found the person I wanted.” Strokes: the hair’s tie. “Why do you think I traveled? I’m a very good apothecary, Velvet; I could have settled in any place and supported myself. Yet.” **Weighted**  brows; “I had to know. If, by even the smallest chance, you _lived_ …I had to find you.”

…narrowed eyes. “I already told you. I’m not the ‘Velvet’ you knew.”

“I don’t know if I agree.” A budding scowl—she lifts a hand. “You’re different. But. I still see glimpses.” (When she speaks to ‘Laphicet’; when she, Idles, with her….) “That ‘Velvet’ is still in there.” Looses; the braid. Brings the hand to her chest. “Even so: That isn’t necessary.” _Confusion_. “I’m not trying to change you into what you were.” (— ** _Can’t_**.)This is no fey tale… “Neither of us can go back.”

(But — **This** )

 _Now_ ,

When she never thought she’d _See_  the woman, _again_ …

_Even get to Have **That** —_

( ** _Takes_**  It.

 _Holds_ ; her **_Selfishness_** : _Close_.)

That perpetual frown.

(That Convenient silence.)

Velvet, shifts — Disengages. Turns on a heel; to stalk a grassy incline.

(She doesn’t _join_ her)Follows: bandaged fingers. As they methodically pluck, small flowers;

(Again. _Again_.)

“Velvet…” doesn’t _reach_ —

( _Trapped_ ; in the depths of her throat.)

The woman returns—as _swiftly_ as she departed—cupped hand, _flush_ , with purple petals.

“Enough?”

…Blinks. “These. Are Red Maids.” The name is so **_fitting_**  she stares at the woman skeptically. “Did you know that?” A neutral shrug. “Here,” steals one from the tall pile, “Put this in your—” fingers—Freeze. Mid-air. _Curl_ ; apologetically. “You…”

“It’s fine.” Her hand is taken—brought forward; until the petals are near. “I can still smell.” _Sniffs_ ; “…sweet.”

(A slight question;) Niko smiles. “Its seeds.” Takes one of the black grains in her mouth. Sighs happily. “Good find, Crowe. I may keep you around, after all….”

Rolled eyes;

lowers the haul, gently, to the ground.

Steps—close(a _breath_ ); lifts the crown from her head.

“You don’t have to…”

“What?” (And she’s already bending to her knees.) “You don’t trust me?”

(…There; the faintest  _smirk_ …)

Lips, part — before she thinks better of it:

Joins her, instead. Lies; back on soft grasses. “This is nice…”

(A  **memory** : Gentle breezes; Gasps and laughter; Homemade lunches; The salt of the Sea…

 _Hitch_ —)

A scoff; (sees: the other secure blades of grass. Fold and knot, easily…) “Thank you.” ( _Waits_ ;) “…For taking care of her.” The other studies the flowers intently. “I didn’t. Want Laphicet to have to use any more of his abilities while recovering.”

“You’re welcome.” **Knows** ; how important the malak is to her. (Will preserve that _Sanity_ ; any way  **possible** ). “I’ll check in, again, once we're back inside. Though: seeing as Bienfu has yet to scream bloody murder; I’ll assume the best.”

Silence.

(Closed eyes.)

Then:

“We may have a lead.”

“Oh?”

“One of Laphicet's books could tell us more about Innominat. We can’t read it yet; but the witch has a friend who, supposedly, can translate."   _Irritation_. “Slim. But it’s something.”

“Where are they?”

“Southgand.”

 _Whistles_. “Never a dull moment with you.”

A lapse;

Another….

“Done.”

Opens her eyes:

_Stars_

An unreadable expression(—the woman leaning over).

“Sit up.”

Follows. The husked command:

(Doesn’t _hesitate_.)

Catches; Red Maids, doused in  _moonlight_ ….

( _Intricate_ and _**Savage**_ )

The crown of flowers is replaced.

( _Can’t_. Tell. If the fingers, glancing bangs— _skin_ —are **Deliberate**  or _Chance_ ….)

Exhales: “…Not bad.”

Velvet withdraws( ** _Pleased_** );

Rises to her feet.

"Then go to _sleep_.”

… _Breathes_. (Runs an indulgent finger against petals, once more…)—a  _smile_ : “Yes ma’am.”


	4. Waking Dreams

* * *

 

“… There.” A satisfied nod. “Dinner is served.”

_Squelch_

“ _Laphi_ ,” **stern** ; “you have to eat. You’ll never grow up to be big and strong if you don’t finish everything put on your plate.” A chastising finger. “That means _even_ the spinach.”

_Squish_

“No back talk from you, mister — you’re _not_ getting out of eating your vegetables.”

_Squelch_

“…Well. All right.” _Indulgent_ , “Just this _once_.”

Removes; entrails—(the tight ridge of an intestine?) — sets it to the side;

Wet  _slaps_  to stone.

_Schlip_

(Thinks: she’s much too _soft_ on him — but how can she _resist_?

Her  _precious_   _little_ **brother** …)

Her precious  ** _Laphi_** ….

 _drip. drip. drip_.

“Now: Eat up.” _Squeezes_ ; the slick organ in her hand, gently; _adoringly_ … Brings— **Black** - ** _Red_** —to viscid tissue with a cupped hand;

_Smiles_

“This is a good meal, isn’t it?” Looks. To pulpy **viscera** , _wrenched_  around them. Puddling **fluids** … “I was able to get some really good ingredients, this time, from the prickleboar I sold. It turned out to be such a great haul, there were even some left over to use for dinner.”

_Squelch_

“Come on —” glances away, “Quit trying to embarrass me, you little rascal.”

Brings: Another, **Dutiful** , _handful_ :

 _Up_.

_Squish_

“I’ll eat right after you — don’t you worry!”

 _Drip_ ;

Innards( ** _blood-soaked)_** , _spill_ ; over feeding fingers.

“Laphi, you’re making a mess. I swear—you’d be all but hopeless without your big sis around.” A fond _cluck_  of the tongue. “Here.”

 _Rips_ — a piece of threadbare tunic:

 **Dabs** ,

_Wipes_

— ** _Swabs_** : The organ dry.

“There.” Another nod( **Satisfied** ). “All clean.”

Draws it: _Close_. _Presses_ —to **_skin_** …

(Can  _almost_   _hear_ _it_ : **_Beat_** …)

_Squelch_

“We’ll always be together.” ( ** _Tighter_** )A harsh  **grip** ; _nails_ —into coarse muscle. “You’ll never leave me…” ( _Closer_ ) “Isn’t that right?”

 _Shifts_ —the organ: **Back**

“…Laphi?”

Silence.

(Fresh rivulets of **blood** …)

“ _Don’t look at me like that_!”

— _Hurls_ ; the fleshy clump — **To** **_Darkness_**.

 _Pants_. _Pants_

 _Glares_. At the **_filthy_** **ground**.

_Scratch_

**_Claws_** — _scraping_ — _scraping_ — **inescapable** stone…

(Wide eyes)

“Laphi!” _Runs_ ; in the direction of **_Carelessness_** … **Finds** : The thrown away organ and _hugs it to her chest_. “I’m _sorry_ , Laphi — I didn’t…” _ragged_ _breaths_ , “Here. I’ll make it all better… Just,” _anxiously_ ; props the organ against wall. “Kill Artorius. I’ll _kill_ _him_ , and we can be together, again—all right?”

(… _Vel-vet_ …)

“— _Laphi_?”

(… _You Let me_ **Die**.)

The organ — splits. Two pieces.

She — Falls(— _collapses_ ). To Buckled knees.

**_Screams_ **

“…Velvet?”

 _Ni_ —

( ** _No_** ) _Turns_ —sharply. “Shouldn’t. _Be_ here—” (That **_person_** )Head  _shakes_   _fiercely_. “Can’t be. Can’t be here… Can’t be — Her…” _Grips_. The side of her head. **Harshly**   _rubs_  temples— “ _Don’t Look_.”

Hands( _Warm_ ) rest; on her shoulders. “Calm down. You’re trembling…”

(No

nonononononono

 _Don’t_.

 _Don’t_ **_look_** —)

Doesn’t.

“Velvet;” ( ** _Groans_**. _Rocks_ ; slow) “Why.” A quavering inquiry. “Why; Won’t you look at me?”

“ _You should be dead_!” Sharp air; “Should. Be…” nods — _Nods_. Eyes _flit_  to either corner of the cell. “Everyone…” _twitching_  fingers; the corners of her mouth— _twitch_ , “ _Everyone_  from that village is _dead_ …”

(She **_Slaughtered_ _them_**.)

Her **daemon** hand — **_Aches_** …

 ** _Pulses_** :

( ** _Missed_** …. **_One_** ….)

“Rudimentary.” _Ice_ ; down her spine( ** _Artorius_**.) “Your: Inconsistent effort.” Hears— **Contempt** ; _cast_ , from behind her shoulder. “Did I teach you swordplay; for you to gain only slipshod result?”

“ _Shut-up_.” Her hand  _balls_ into a fist against the ground. “They weren’t people, anymore — they were mindless _daemons_. All I _cared about_ , was getting to  _You_. Getting to, Laphi—” Sudden.

**Realization**

(— _Panic_ )

The organ no longer  **There**.

“Laphi?” _Scans_  the wall. _Rushes_ —back: to a pried carcass( _ **mutilated** and_ _sprawled_ ).  _Rips_  through grisly entrails(Her **special** _quiche_ )— “ _Laphi_!”

“…Am I. Disgusting?”

A choked  _Inhalation_.

—Looks  _Up_. To the **_Tortured_** tone.

( **Blood**.)

 **Red** — _trickles_ (— ** _mars_** ); down. _Scratched_ , **bruised** legs.

“… _No_ …” gasped.

The organs  _slip_  from her hands.

“Can you;” Downcast eyes. “Not stand the sight of me?”

“ _No_ —”

(“ _Would you rather I_ ** _died_** _by_ ** _Your hand_**?”

A sweet whisper beside her ear: “ _Would I have been_ ** _Delicious_** …?”)

_Irreverent Laughter_

Her entire body — _shakes_

“I didn’t want this either, Velvet!” _Tears_. “I didn’t want _Any of This_!”

“ _I_ —”

“What did you  _Expect_  to _happen_? No one was left — everyone was _dead_!” ( _It Hurts_ )— ** _Wrath_**. “And you only cared about your _brother_!”

 _Staggers_. “ _Please_ —”

“ _Why_?” **Again** ( _Endless_ …) “Why didn’t you Save  _me_?” ( **Pain** ) “Why did you _Abandon_ _me_?” ( ** _Pain_** ) “ _Look what I’ve **Become**_!”

The form before her — _twists_ — **Distorts**

( ** _Grotesque_** , _Shifting_ shapes—)

Never _settling_

 _Mounting_ _Wails_ :

( _Why, Why, Why_ )

Hands( ** _nails_** )—to her ears— _clawing_ ;

“ _No_! _Niko_ — Niko, I _didn’t_ ,” (—‘ _Mean to_ ** _Kill_** _your_ ** _Family_** …’?), “I  _swear_ , I would  _never_ —” (‘ _ **Leave** **you** **to**_ ** _Die_** ’.) “…I,” _stumbles_ ; “I didn’t have a choice…” ( ** _Ahahahaha_** ), “—I didn’t _have a Choice_!”

( _No_

**_Cho-_ **

**_ice_**.)

Barbed claws — _stretch_.  _Wrap_  around her neck. “ _Now_. _It’s Your Turn_ …” **Merciless**. A disfigured voice( _at_ _once_ —all the **Voices** , she knew in **Aball** ). “ _Don’t you think_ ,” (Piercing, **Red** **eyes** )The Daemon’s head— _jerks_ ; unnaturally, “ ** _YOu_** _ShOuLd_ ** _DiE_**?”

 

* * *

“— _Get away from me_!”

(Not yet. _Not Yet_

**not**

yetnot

 **Yet** )

Not before

 ** _Him_**.

— ** _Thrusts_**. To see Niko( _?!_ )— ** _Pinned_** to a **wall** —Hand  _seized_ ; around the one at her throat—

(Calm features.)

Passive.

“You’re back.”

(Those eyes glow— **Menacing** —in darkness)

Feels:

( ** _Pain_** )A cold bead of sweat, roll, down her back.

(Her hand  _moves_   **No** **_Further_**.)

 _Retracts_ — and the other’s  _grip_  loosens simultaneously.

 _Staggers_ ; backward.

“So. It does Affect you.” (Doesn’t  ** _like_** : The **Weight**  of her tone).

Doesn’t answer.

Leans( _falls_ ) to a corner(—touches the wall;)

 **Solid**.

 **Wood**.

(Needing to know—it’s **Real** ).

White teeth(A smile). “You know: You’re lucky, Velvet.” Focused eyes. “You still have dreams.” **Blood** **Eyes** Bare into her. “Sure you're a daemon?” 

“Why are you here?” **_Grunts_** ; at the _strain_ (—the _crack_ ), in her voice.

“I heard screaming.” Matter-of-fact.

(A subtle kindness

More than likely, the others “ _heard_ ”, as well —but had the **good** **sense**  to _Stay_ _the Hell out of It_ …)

Slow breaths. The fingers against the wall, arc. “They’re just bad dreams. Nothing to get worked up about.” Glances; to the other woman. “You can leave.”

“What did you dream about?”

Doesn’t budge.

She runs a rough hand through her hair; Again. Looks away in silence(—Knows. That isn’t **Enough**  to _get_ _her_ _out_ …). “Being stuck in Artorius’ prison.” _Doesn’t_ **know** — _why_  she doesn’t **Stop**   ** _there_** ; “Laphi.”

(…Can’t. Find the **_Courage_**. To say:

‘ _You_ ’.)

‘ _How you_   ** _Hated_**   ** _Me_** ….’

“You can’t taste.” _Wrenched_ features—her jaw  _tightens_ (— _What_  does that even have to **_Do_** with _Any_ —) “Memories.” ( **Stopped**. In her **tracks**.)Velvet stares; Niko — parts from the wall. Steps; to the center of the room. “I’ve lost. Almost, all of them; I keep, losing… I can’t even remember my parents' names…” _turns_. “Everything; but you.” Faint lips in moonlight. “Everything: You.” (Something in those **_eyes_** — _shift_ ; _unravel_ …); a cocked head, “Why is that?”

…Can’t— ** _Answer_**.

(Doesn’t want to even get — _Close_ )

The other turns back. “It makes sense, in a way.” ( **Thinks** : there’s something —  _wistful_ …) “Memories; must be what dreams draw from…”

The air feels— _Oppressive_ —

 ** _Thick_** …. With things she can’t _name_

(Doesn't _**Want**_   _to_ —)

Niko rests on her bunk.

Narrowed eyes. “ _Get up_.”

“You don’t want to sleep together?” ( _Flick_ ;)Between: something _faultless_ and **_wanton_** …(Rejects. The  ** _stir_** , **deep** , within her abdomen). “Have a sleepover with me.” Her feet, _sway_ , forward and back. “We did, all the time. When we were younger.”

“Stop it.”

“I won’t leave you.” (Those eyes— **Pin** —her. It lingers; like  **Conclusion**.) A _pat_ ; against the thin mattress. “At least: Not until you fall asleep.”

…A slow, stream of air.

( **Dammit**.)

 **Sure**. It’s the best compromise she’ll get this night.

(…Soft. Still. From the ‘ **monster** ’ in her dream….

— **Her**.)

“One night.”

A happy _hum_. The other rises; to let her slip-in first.

Velvet sighs. Sits and shifts along the narrow bunk, until meeting the wall—

Faces it.

Doesn’t **Speak**. When she feels: soft motions—

_Warmth_

— **shuts** ; eyes tightly.

"Velvet;" ( _breath_ ; against the back of her neck) **Silence**. "Sweet dreams."

_Falters_

(…Calms.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The dream(nightmare) sequences Velvet had, in-game, were great; the symbolism and conversations… *Had* to try my hand at one— Really *PUSH IT*. Pick up where the game alluded. And, naturally: involve Niko. Seems a shame there was never a nightmare, with her.  
> I cannot Overstate how important Velvet’s fractured psyche is to me/this story. Ohhhh, the places we will go~


	5. Simple Complex

 

“How are you feeling?”

“Never better!” Benwick all but _Leaps_  from his bunk, flexing an arm(lean; sinewy muscle, in place of Mass) for her benefit; the baby sylphjay on his head—even absent of _Hat_ — _trills_   _boastingly_. “Ready to get out of this bed, and back up deck, for one.”

“You. And every other pirate on this ship;” Niko presses a finger to his shoulder, setting him back down. “But, the last you claimed you were ‘Never better!’, you nearly fell off the crow’s nest from vertigo.”

“Right, right…” (the man has the decency to scratch his nose in embarrassment). “Sorry to make you worry, Doc.”

A thumb; tucked behind either ear. “That selfishness affects us all, Benwick. Just think:” _curled_ lips, “If we lost you, then we’d all have to deal with Eizen without a buffer. No one wants that.”

“Ah, damn!” A hearty laugh. “And here I thought you were concerned about me!”

(Catches. _Hope_ ; the bashful  _flicker_ )Smiles. “Can’t it be both?”

Benwick beams bright; missing tooth flashed charmingly — and she’s all too easily reminded of a mischievous little boy.

( _Laphi_ …)

Her thumbs slip beneath his jaw. “No fever; minimal swelling.” Withdraw. “Seems one of ‘Aifread’s dread pirates’ may actually be telling the truth…”

“Not fool enough to try the same trick, twice, if it’s already failed once—those hands of yours are too sharp, Doc.” The grin stays put: a healthy glimmer in the interesting mix of green and blue eyes. “Hell, I’d do twelve laps around the Eltia, flat, if it would make it so I’d never have to drink that sale’tomah gunk, again.”

“The day’s still young…” draws back; into the borrowed chair to rise. Replace: The weighted piece to its corner. “I should get to the others.”

“Yeah…Yeah.” Those eyes dampen, slightly. “You’ve got quite the fan club brewing. Rest of the crew’d probably tie and keelhaul me if I kept you to myself, any longer.”

She reaches to stroke the young sylphjay under its beak(—an appreciative _coo_ ). “Now, that, would be a _sight_ …” a wink tossed his way —

And she’s out the door.

(Thinks: The sailor isn’t **_wrong_** ;

Half the pirates she treated for corsair’s scourge suffered multiple doses of sale’tomah juice simply to be spoon fed, once more.)

 _Chuckles_ ; under her breath: “ _Men_.”

Spots: one. Draped in black; canted against the wall of the hallway.

A straightened back. Blue eyes( **grave** )shift her way:

“How are they?”

“No losses.” (Skips: Pleasantries; in the face of such Austerity—

 **Guilt**.)

“The worst off were the three you discovered, collapsed, several days ago.” A hand to her left pocket to retrieve the relevant notes. “They’re currently recovering from severe dehydration and slight paralysis; I’ve placed all three on strict diets of soft foods and mandatory bedrest for the next few days.” Niko tilts her head—and the sweet scent of raspberries follows; the latest addition to her flower crown, revealed. “Reserve stock of sale’tomah; on the off chance this happens again.” She palms petals appreciatively. “Though, it’s wondrously effective for common ailments, as well.”

Eizen nods, apparently satisfied. “Good thinking. I’ve, personally, never heard of the corsair’s scourge hitting the same ship, twice — but that could just be its victims not surviving the first wave. And. With my curse.”

(Moves On.) “I figured it the least I could do; given how worried you were.” Replaced notes. “You really care about them.”

“If one of us is in trouble, then all of us are—we look out for our own.” A scoff. “Aifread’s crew won’t be taken out by some haphazard illness on the sea. We’re the ones who decide our fate.” Folded arms. “Only us.”

An interested hum. “That ‘creed’, must be why none of them believe you abandoned them.”

Closed eyes. (A beat.) “They all want their captain back; just as much as I.”

“But you want to be the one to bring him back.” (A face; as impassive as stone). “Even at the cost of denying others.”

(Doesn’t— _Blame_. Leaves it: As **fact**.

Understands. What it’s **_Like_**. To be without Someone Important—for **_years_**.

The _Desperation_ …)

(Shifted weight.)Blue eyes open. “Regardless: I owe you for the trouble. I’m sure it wasn’t easy. Getting a bunch of stubborn pirates to stay in their beds.”

“You’d be surprised:” _Smirk_ ; “I’m very persuasive.”

An appraising brow; the reaper chuckles, low. “I don’t doubt it.” A step. From the wall; hands tucked into the pockets of his pants. “I’ll check up on the rest of them for you: Shouldn’t be anything I can’t handle, at this point—and you’ve well earned yourself a break.” Pauses. When he’s beside her. “Niko.” (Smiles; with closed eyes.) “We won’t forget the service you’ve done for us, here — me. Or the crew.”

“Knowing you: There’ll be a bill, of some kind, you’ll hand us when this is all over.” She peeks out a single eye. “Clear our debt for travel, as well as room and board, while we occupy this ship; and I’ll call it even.”

The corner of his mouth  _crooks_. “Deal.”

“In _writing_.” A backward glance; as the man continues past her. “I’ve learned never to trust sailors at their word—I'll assume pirates, less so.”

Eizen lifts an acceding hand—before disappearing around a corner.

(Another quiet laugh)Niko turns to leave—

Catches: muffled _sound_

—A flash of **red**.

 _Hums_.

Deliberate  ** _steps_** : “Eavesdropping?”

…The exorcist, (haltingly), steps from her hiding place into the hallway—posture  _stiff_. “N-no! I… simply wished to check on the ship’s crew. Gauge if they were recovering properly.” Flustered features narrow. “They were all so _agitated_ …when we left to find their second-in-command; enough to do something foolhardy. Such as neglect their required dosages of sale’tomah…” (Again. That—Unabashed: ‘ _Sincerity_ ’…) “Though.” Niko arcs a brow; “I. Was impressed.” Hands cup either elbow in obvious discomfiture. “You always appear to speak to the others so easily. Personally; I’ve found it quite difficult to approach the malak Eizen.”

“You _are_  a bit awkward.” A finger to her jaw. “Or, is it… ‘heavy-handed’…?”

Eleanor’s cheeks puff slightly. “I. Have been told…I’m not the easiest to converse with. But you would do well with a bit of consideration, of your own.”

“You’d like me to _lie_?” Smiles. “I’m quite good at that, actually. Though, I doubt that surprises you…” An answering frown. “What surprises  _me_ , is your desire to check on the crew. For any reason, other, than not trusting a daemon to properly heal them.”

The other quiets. “Bienfu; informed me my own life was in your hands. While we rested in the ancient temple linked to the earthpulse. I.” Pause. “Wasn’t aware a daemon could undertake so honorable a deed — especially toward an exorcist.” Green eyes meet cleanly(Her lips, thin, into a _tight_ line). “You have my gratitude.”

“So pained!” A gesture to her mouth— _Amused_. “Did you draw blood?”

Straightens. “Th-That. Was not my intention.” … _Exhales_. “You;” her arms fall to either side, “negotiated travel, room and board: For all of us. When you could have easily, stopped at yourself.”

Niko 

 _smiles_. Takes her _In_ :

( _Sees_ ;

a woman—so _Desperate_ —for an ally

—A point of **_Reference_** ….)

It. Only  **human**  nature.

“So, you _were_  eavesdropping.” Advances—before the other can  _protest_. “I did that for Velvet.” The curve of her lips, softens. “She’s a bit single-minded when it comes to those things… I also don’t expect Eizen to continue our transport the Moment he’s found what he’s looking for. And. In an effort to make that end smoother.” A steady gaze. “ _Yes_.”

“You. Are… close.” Staid features. “To the daemon Velvet.”

( _Oh_ ,

Can almost— _ **Taste**_ : the **Disappointment** …)

A low hum. “My turn to be interrogated?”

Wide, green eyes. “It—It isn’t an interrogation!”

A  **step** ; to her(—an echoed step back; _Wary_ …). “Did you know your eyes  _shift_ ; your pulse  _hastens_ ; you begin to  _sweat_ …” licked lips; “I  _smell_  your _anxiety_ ….” The other swallows thickly. “Dangerous. Praetor.” _Leans_  in, “Unlike me. You’re a _terrible_ liar.”

Retracts.

(Watches: The woman— _loose_ ; the breath she didn’t know she’d been holding.)

“Would you like to know how Velvet is or how she was?” An inquiring tilt of the head.

“So, it’s true.” Eleanor( _Recovers_ ); looks to her intently. “You actually knew each other when you were younger.” Disbelief; a shaken head. “It’s… Hard to believe she was once, human.”

“As human as you are, now.” The other’s features _Wrench_  with displeasure; Niko merely laughs. “I think. That’s why I like you. Eleanor.” ( ** _Color_** : tinges twin cheeks.) “You remind me of who I knew.”

“ _What_?! Surely—” …Clears her throat. “Ahem. Back on topic:” serious eyes, “When we had been in the village proper of Reneed; she mentioned her ‘little brother’.” Furrowed brows. “Was — ‘Laphi’?”

“Why do you want to know?”

A lapse—but the exorcist’s expression remains undaunted. “Velvet—smiled. I’ve never… seen her. That way. Wasn’t entirely positive she was still capable of making those sorts of reactions.” A beat. “She looked. Almost…”

“Yes.” Green orbs widen, once more. “They were very close.”

(Watches. The other register: ‘ _were_ ’); “… And: ‘Laphicet’?”

Stares.

Eleanor looks to the strips of wood beneath their feet. “I… see.” _Up_. “There was mention of another brother. Who—”

“Have you ever lost someone close to you?”

“W-What? I—” _thrown_ ; off balance. “Yes. My.” A _bit_ lip. “Yes.”

“How did they die?”

Her mouth turns in a grimace; those eyes—dip, apologetically. “Point taken.”

A smile: “Still; this is convenient. Even if only a mild case: You were affected by the corsair’s scourge, as well.” Rests; the back of a hand to the other’s forehead. “Are you well?”

“You’re…” flushed skin, “really handsy…”

Downturned eyes. “Does it make you uncomfortable?”

“…No. It’s only,” knit brows. “Sudden.” The woman reclaims her earlier disposition—nods. “You’ve proven yourself a capable healer and I will defer to your judgement. Though; I’ve had no further incident since drinking my share of,” a marked  ** _shudder_** , “sale’tomah juice.”

“I didn’t even have to spoon feed you. Pirates really _do_ make the neediest patients…” Eleanor looks alarmed; Niko draws back her hand, convinced. “Speaking of: You wanted to check on their conditions? I’m sure they'll appreciate a drop-in from a pretty girl. Far more than one from Eizen.”

“…R-Right. I’ll—take my leave, then.” The exorcist(budding red) turns stiffly down the hall.

Niko smirks( _thinks_. She’ll enjoy:  _Discovering_. If ‘the enemy’ is as innocent as she seems…); exits the area of the cabins and takes the stairs to the main deck, by twos.

Breathes: _In_ ; the refreshing air one can only get at _Sea_. Wind picking up her hair….

The Van Eltia is a masterpiece — a

 _Wonder_.

From the scores of rope latticework, as far as the eye can see; to the broad, sturdy masts rigged with billowed sails; to the proud and vibrant pirate regalia

—A  _Masterpiece_.

Climbs: Another flight of intricately carved stairs, one hand trailing the detailed metalwork of its wall—the other following the delicate bend of its railing. (Winks; to Dyle and Kurogane)Navigates around the body of the ship’s dining hall to be embraced by the stark solitude of the stern.

And, there  **she**  is.

Reclined form, belying the _swiftness_  in which it could be made to **_Attack_** … Toned legs—long; Right: _stretched_  along the gentle curve of the ship’s rail. Left: crooked at a sharp angle. Jostling leather. The breeze filtering through the worn slits in her jacket;

Gently: teasing. The tail of her hair.

(Wonders. Why.

Lonely things are often Most **Beautiful**.)

“Done?” _Curt_. Before she can fully approach. Those eyes don’t turn from the sea.

 _Tsks_. “It’s no fun, if I can’t sneak up on you.”

Shoulders shift; to indicate a shrug. “I can’t sneak up on you, either.”

( **No** —she _can’t_. Knows: That **_scent_** , too _well_ ….)Niko strolls closer. “I’d let you — if you really wanted to. Just let me know for next time: I’ll jump. And even pretend to be startled. ‘ _V-Velvet_!’” A hand to her chest.

Her eyes, _flick_ ,

“Would you like that?”

“…Shut-up.”

( _Smirks_ );

There: A— _Tension_ —whenever they speak… A **_Thickness_** ; a **Heat** …

(Can’t— _help_ ; but **_Play_** …)

“I do enjoy a good game of hide and seek.” Grazes; the metal of a greave. “When we were kids, I’d always find you first.” Leans; against wooden rail. “I didn’t like the idea of you alone.”

(Sees: that expression —  _Strain_ ; out the corner of her eye). “Any casualties?”

“All alive and well.” Vivid blue waves. “And very grateful.”

“Good. It’d be a pain in the ass to find another crew.” Niko laughs. A beat. “Looks like those skills you picked up will be seeing plenty of use.”

“Then I’m useful?”

(It makes the other  _turn_ —)

“Of course you are.” Harshly drawn brows. She looks away. “You’re useful. Everyone likes you. Just like—” (…‘Before’.) Her jaw **sets**. “You’re. ‘ _Cheerful_ ’.”

“Smile a bit more and you’ll make friends, too, Velvet.” Curled lips.

“I’m not here to make friends.”

( _Cold_.)

“Convenient for me; since we already are.” (— _Relishes_. That the other doesn’t  ** _Dispute_** **it**.) “Is it so terrible? To have people who support you?” Glances. “Does this have to be a punishment?”

“Should I  _enjoy_  it?” Her tone is a _stretched_ **cord**. “All of this— _all of it_ —happened because I was _weak_.”

“That wasn’t weakness; it was misfortune.”

“I don’t  _need_ a  _pat on the back_.”

 ** _Snarled_**.

Niko: closes her eyes(Doesn’t let, the _Masking_ **Anger** —push her _away_ ). Turns; back to blue.

(… _Waits_.)

Hears: a broken hiss of air; the angry _scratch_  of unforgiving nails— ** _harsh_** —against a scalp.

“… _never comes out_   _right_.”

(Doesn’t  _acknowledge_. It  **Heard**.)

The sound of sliding leather. Feet to the ground; a silent  **presence**  looms beside her(… _hesitant_ ); matching her height:

The barest hint, _taller_.

(—It feels like _blasphemy_ )

 ** _Plops_** ; a hand against the other’s head. Velvet stares at her blankly. “How  _dare_ _you_  be taller than me? And so  _lazily_?”

(Lips part with something unspoken — something that doesn't  ** _Understand_** …)Gazes down. Smirks. “Those flowers, at least, add an inch.”

“I was just about to say the same of that messy hair of yours.”

 _Smiles_.

Her hand is captured( _soft_ ); removed. A grimace. “I hate how sidetracked we’ve gotten.” Fingers  ** _dig_**  into wood—shove  _away_ ; as she _paces_. “It feels like I’m falling further  _behind_.”

Niko watches her. “Everyone has their own reasons for traveling. Everyone. Is so damaged…” (Remembers— **still** ; the look on Rokurou’s face—on _Eizen’s_ —when they were denied their vengeance; and  **Fate** , _laughed_ …) “Humans; daemons—malakhim. The simplest; yet most complex…” _chuckles_. Velvet grunts. “It wasn’t a waste of time. We learned what a legate was up to and even captured a ‘rhinostagros’ the Abbey took interest in.” (Those shoulders  _ease_  slightly…) “Speaking of the Abbey; your favorite vessel is asking questions…”

 _Whips_ _around_. “What did she ask?”

“Not: ‘What did you tell her’?”

An Interested brow.

— _Scowls_. “Stop _picking_ everything _apart_.”

“But you say so _little_ , Velvet!” A steady gaze. “I have to.” The other  _exhales_ — turns away. Niko  _taps_  a finger to rail. “She’s very malleable; I don’t believe she’ll be a threat. If anything, she’ll be her own downfall…” _hums_ ; “Idealistic; but not naive. Wanting to know: ‘truth’. More than anything else…” her finger stills. “I look forward to seeing the choices she makes.”

“You sure put a lot of faith in the _enemy_.”

“You’re moping again.” _Sighs_. “Not that I’m completely immune. You were so concerned for the exorcist—and even Magilou, once you thought they’d contracted the corsair’s scourge… It was almost enough to make me wish I could get sick, myself…”

“ _Don’t joke about that_.” **_Sharp_**.(That **voice** — _strains_ …). Velvet  _bites her lip_

— ** _Realizing_**   **it**.

_Prick_

Niko freezes.(Watches: a clenched hand;

 _Quake_ …)

Doesn’t smile. _Rushes_ —forward; to cradle it. “I’m sorry.” No response(— _squeezes_ ). “I would have been worried sick if you caught it, too.”

…The other pulls away. Places a strong hand on top of the fist to **Stop** it.

Swallows. “…Eizen and I didn’t catch everything. But caught enough to know she’s still in it for the Abbey.” Lets the fist drop(Motionless). “Artorius asked her, personally, to stay on as a spy.”

(Decides; not to— _Linger_ :) “Do you think Artorius trusts her?”

“No.” Narrowed eyes. “I don’t know if that man’s ever, truly, trusted anyone.” (…So **_sad_** a **thought** ; she can only stay silent.) “Melchior turned a friendly malak into a dragon; for all their crap on ‘protecting the world’, they’re damned quick to use any means necessary to achieve it.” A( _bitter_ )scoff. “Most likely, she’s another tool for Artorius to throw way.”

“Is that pity?" _Clenched_ teeth. "Empathy?” A **_dark_**   _ **scowl**_. “Do you remember coming back from Lothringen Tower: the campsite we passed through? All the bodies of exorcists Zaveid had spared were gone.”

(—As if: ‘ ** _Acceptable_** ’ losses…)

A furrowed brow  _tells_  the other noticed it, too. “There, also, wasn’t a single exorcist in that infamous tower of theirs—beyond Melchior. For a school and training ground, you’d think they’d be eager to defend it. But it was as if the entire place had been cleared out, beforehand.” A crooked finger to her chin(A  _twinge_  of _**nostalgia**_ , the habit— _sticks_ ). “Kinda makes you wonder how they managed it.” Dark brows, dip. “Maybe that was just another part of the illusion….”

“The Burnack Geyser was beautiful, wasn’t it?” A blank stare. _Laughs_. “I’d like to think we can talk about _more_  than business.” Stares: into serious eyes. “We used to talk about silly things…”

Silence. “Laphi. Would have loved to see that.”

“He would have.” _Grins_ ; at the thought. “No doubt he’d try to touch a rainbow.”

Those lips  _turn_ , in a rare smile(—knows; _well_. Why Eleanor had been so **Adamant** …) “You looked like you were tempted, yourself.” A teasing glint. “I thought I’d have to stop you.”

“You would _try_.” (Loves. That that smile doesn’t **fade** …) _Looses_ ; a large sigh. “Doesn’t a part of you  _want_  to bottle those sorts of views up? To have, some physical _thing_ , to pocket and take with you. When you needed it, most…” _scoffs_. “Not that I’d use it. Even if it  _did_  exist.” A finger; to the curved corner of the other’s mouth. “Fleeting things, stay beautiful. Because they‘re fleeting.”

Retracts.

(That gaze **stays** on her finger…) “Poetic.”

“Mountains spewing hot streams of water, hundreds of feet into the sky, have the same effect on me as ancient temples.”

“You can’t calm down?”

(— **Feels**. Her eyes— ** _Burn_** …)

Backs Velvet; against the rail.

“ _Mm_.”

 **Dilated** gold;

(Smells: **_Arousal_** …)

A  **dark**   _flit_  to **Lips** —

“ _Hey, Velvet_!” A sharp  _breath_  from nose. Gold eyes, _shift_ , at Rokurou’s distant cry. “ _Come on out!_ _We’re almost to Yseult_!”

 **Shut** ; _tightly_.

(She’s already drawn away.)

Walks,

“Niko.” (The slight _croak_ ; almost makes her  _coo_ ….)

Turns: “Velvet.”

“Your reason.” Parted lips( _pants_ ). “What is it?”

A smile. “I’ve already told you that.” **Deliberate**. “You.”

A grunt. “ _Why_?”

“There is no one else.” Twin hands; _clutch_  the rail forcibly. “You’re determined to destroy yourself on this journey. I won’t let you.” Turns. Back. “Shouldn’t we go?”

“…Yeah.” (Hears: wood  _creak_.) “Let’s go.”


	6. Overflow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now, things get *Good*(AH, I’m GIDDY). Yseult—and more importantly: Haria—are where I consider the ball to get Rolling. Yet, I was extraordinarily disappoint so many BIG revelations happen(learning more about Innominat/therions; the truth about ‘daemonblight’), yet there weren’t any *Real* discussions or lasting effects. You just, move on to Loegres.
> 
> So enters fanfic at its *Finest*. Words, unsaid; the in-between spaces. With Niko! *Cheers* The darker things get, the more her presence(and its effect on Velvet) will excite me~

* * *

 

_“Hey, Velvet,”an unhurried drawl, “ever kiss someone?”_

_“W-What?” Her cheeks heat furiously(Isn’t_ good _with these sorts of things…). “N-Niko! You,” (exhales), “always ask the weirdest things out of the blue…”_

 _A puzzled glance. “Is it, really, all that weird?”  The other nudges her shoulder. “We’re teenagers! Hormones, abound! It’d be weird_ not _to think about this stuff! Besides,” the corner of her mouth curls. “A girl like you could be smooching any guy she wanted.”_

_The red hot embarrassment lingers. “‘Like me’?”_

_“Come on — you’re a total babe, Velvet! Even_ with _that look of yours.” Fingers ruffle her uncombed hair; lilac eyes narrow teasingly as her free hand drops to a hip. “You just wanted me to say it, didn’t you?”_

_She swats her knee bashfully._

_Niko laughs. “Anyway: out with it, Crowe. Have you kissed anyone or not?”_

_Fidgets; “N-No. I’ve. Never really wanted to…”_

_(Can’t see the_ appeal _.)_

 _A long-suffering sigh. “Then, you’re the same as me. Which—good, because if you kissed someone without telling me, I’d have to take_ drastic measures _.”_

_Chuckles. “Knowing you, you’d probably punch him flat.”_

_“Darn right.” Huffed. “How dare he kiss my Velvet without receiving my express blessing, first? The gall of that kid! The nerve!”_

_The laughter continues to bubble up; before she catches her breath. “Still. I’m a little surprised you haven’t?” A raised brow(—and, just when the_ heat _started to abate, it comes back with a_ vengeance _). “I just thought… with the apprentice animal doctor…”_

 _“Well, that’s sorta why I asked; I’ve been… considering it.” Niko leans back; sighs again. “But, that’s not something you do without experience, you know? I don’t just want to smash my lips into the guy. Or the tongue thing.” (Her cheeks grow hotter, still.) “How does_ that _even work?”_

 _Smiles. “It_ is _a pretty weird concept.” Agrees, sympathetically. “I think. I’d be pretty nervous about it, too.”_

 _“Who wouldn’t? Which is why I should practice.” Smirks. “And_ you _should be my practice buddy!”_

 _“H-huh?” (It—_ Numbs _—her senses)Sputters, “T-that’s—”_

 _“Geez, Velvet — I’m not_ that _unattractive, am I?”_

_“You’re not unattractive at all! In fact, you’re really pretty Niko!” The other grins wide(And she Knows she’s just been paid back for earlier;_

_In_ Full _.)_

_Rubs; crimson cheeks._

_“Then there’s no issue!”_

_Gapes. Between her fingers(—What is that_ logic _?). “It would be your first kiss!”_

_“You haven’t said no~”_

_“No!” Shakes her head, fiercely. “That’s weird… That’s weird, isn’t it?”_

_Niko sighs a third time, as if dealing with an especially thick child. “You sure care a lot about what other people think, Velvet.” (Her mouth opens and closes, wordlessly.) “It would be_ your _first, too — we’ll be even!” A pointed stare. “Would you rather I round-up one of the idiot boys of this village and practice with them?”_

_Her brow furrows, deep._

_(—Can’t_ Help it _.)_

_“Exactly.” Niko affirms, triumphant, before pressing her hands together in an ardent plea. “Help a fellow girl out! Don’t make me beg!”_

_(…Hesitates)_

_Knows: The problem isn’t the act, itself;_

_(But that she doesn’t really_ mind _—_ It _._

_Not if it’s Niko _…_ )_

_Exhales. …Nods. “…All right.”_

_“Wait—seriously?” Surges forward—to wrap her in both arms. “Oh my gosh, Velvet—you are, officially, the best person ever.”_

_Smiles, weakly(Can’t calm down…). “Just once, okay?” Flusters, “A-And no tongue!”_

_“If I can contain myself.” Glares. “All right; all right — just a little humor to lighten the mood…” holds up; placating hands._

_…She nods again. Positions herself in front of her;_

_(Tries not to_ panic _)…._

_“Okay.” A slight lapse—and even the fearless girl she’s known forever — wavers. “So, you’re the guy.” Rolled eyes. “Obviously.”_

_(Doesn’t know why that_ Irritates _her.) “‘Obviously’?”_

_“Who’s wearing the pants here, Crowe?”_

_“That doesn’t—”_

_“Shh.” Stares. “Say something.”_

_“Which one is it?” Niko tosses a dirty look. “I… really like you?”_

_“Is that a question?” Auburn brows dip. “You really suck at this, guy. No kiss for you.”_

_“Well, I can’t say I prepared for ‘_ this’ _, when I woke up from bed this morning.”_

__“_ More the fool you, then. _”_ The other Grins; places. Twin hands, on both her shoulders. Inches closer. “I like you, too.”_

_Her face_ blooms _. With fresh heat._

_(Spots. A tinge of pink. Across the other’s cheeks, as well)_

_“Meet me halfway.”_

_(Can’t reply)Does her Best to nod._

_Shifts—forward:_

_So close; she sees long lashes; the faint arc of freckles, splashed. Across the bridge of a nose…_

_Closes her eyes—_

_“Stop.”_

_A hitched breath— and she nearly _—_ jerks back— _sure _the other’s realized, this is a_ Mistake _—_

 _Niko lifts her hands from her shoulders: holds her near. A grip on either side of her face. “Tilt your head a bit.” (Her mouth falls open)Smiling eyes. “I’ve read enough to know you can’t go straight at it. Or our noses will bump.” Cranes; her face at an angle,_ for _her. “Perfect.”_

_Warm puffs; against her skin_

_(Can’t know; if she’s_ Relieved _or_ Terrified _…)_

 _Lilac orbs flick to her own—only a moment—and—Startling_ Heat _. In the pit of her stomach(crashing down her legs)—before landing, back, on her lips;_

Press _. Before she can think on anything, further._

_Soft_

_Her heart pounds so fast—so_ Loud _—_

_Deafening…._

_Fears. Her chest won’t contain it_

_(Is_ this. _What_ kisses _are?)_

 _Like: Depth; and Too Much to_ Hold _…_

 _“…Hm.” Niko backs away. Thoughtful. Licks lips, unconsciously(_ more _: knifelike heat). “Feel anything?”_

_“W-what? I—” seals her lips together; to stop herself(from letting it: Loose). Swallows hard. “Did. Did you?”_

_“Warmth. Kinda tingly? Your lips are pretty soft, Velvet. Guess you’re a girl, after all.” (Reddens on the spot)The other’s fingers trail her lower lip(Doesn’t know_ what to do _. With the sudden,_ ache _). “It’s. Surprisingly sensitive, there…” smirks. “Sure you didn’t feel anything?”_

_Flushes. “D-Does it matter? This,” looks away, “was for you.”_

_A hand to her cheek, “It matters to me.”_

_Lips—_ Press _,_

_Longer._

Bolder _._

_(Still. Too short—)_

_“There.” That triumphant_ smile _. “I was the guy, that round. Figured you’d go for one a bit pushy, but sincere.” A wink(Her heart _—_ races…). “Only fair we _both _get our proper ‘first’.”_

—

She wakes, heated and wet. _Grimaces_. Looks around the dim room to see the exorcist still sleeping.

Brings, two fingers—Three— _crooked_ ; between her thighs—to **_Deal_ **_with it_.

 _Breathes(gasps)_ ; into a pillow…

“ _Never listened_ …”

Wipes. Fingers; against thin sheets.

Doesn’t— **Have**  ‘good’ dreams.

 

* * *

 

“You’ve been quiet.”

The path to Palamides temple is irritatingly long: stretches of coarse, uneven rock and sporadic pools of seawater that seep into her greaves and make her life  _Miserable_.

(Laphicet, stopping, every five to six steps to marvel over the latest thing he’s seen or picked up—to be  _Slapped_  out of his _hands_ —also **doesn’t** help.)

Niko glances her way(that easy smile). “I’ve had a lot to think on. Namely: hugging pengyons. They’re just so  _cute_ , Velvet.” Frowns. “Yet, surprisingly agile…” Velvet stares(Never knows, what’s _Real_ —what’s **Distraction** …). “Haven’t had much opportunity to contribute, so far. I don’t know _anything_ of ancient languages, or all that history talk — though, it does seem like Everyone else in our group is, weirdly, an expert.” Her pinky, _twirls_. “‘ _The Empyreans, you say_? _Why, I spoke to one just yesterday_! _I simply must introduce you_ ~’” (Can’t help; the  _quirk_  of her lips.)A puddle, deftly sidestepped. “Guess I’m just a simple girl from Eastgand…”

Snorts: “There’s nothing ‘simple’ about you.”

That smile, _arcs_ (she _breathes_  a pace, faster

—Reins it  **back**. Under **Control** ).

“Velvet.” ( **Disregards** : the way it rolls on her _tongue_ ). “There was one thing that caught my attention. One word. ‘Therion’.” **Crimson** eyes; **lock**. “Isn’t that the type of daemon you told me, you were, back in Loegres?”

“Before you ask—no. I don’t know anything special about them.” A clenched _fist_. “It’s just what Artorius called me on that night.”

The other pauses; eyes away. “Let’s assume, everything Grimoirh and her pupil translated last night is correct; that Eleanor’s interpretation of its lyrics is correct… ‘Therions’ are ‘mouths’, who feed Innominat and cause it to awaken.” **Back**. “Does devouring daemons have anything to do with ‘malevolence’? Was there a reason that was the only thing you were given for three years?”

“Wasn’t really in a position to _ask_.” Sees; brows, _dip_ — _Regret_ — ** _bites_**. The inside of her cheek(a record, of normal conversation, and she has to **_Screw it up_** ). Breathes; out her nose. “Your guess is as good as mine.” Niko nods silently(—she wants to _Move_ **_on_** ). “What’s your take on the Abbey’s actions, so far? Seizing the temple we’re headed to?”

“Is it crueler to ignore, or pretend to listen?”

“What?”

“Teresa. You don’t find her interesting?” **That** smile resurfaces. “There was no alternative: She was always going to take their temple, away — why, then, the extra step?” A sideways glance. “Why, ‘pretend’ to care, at all?”

“Seems like what the Abbey does best.” _Sneers_ ; into the distance. “Give: the ‘illusion’ of hope.”

A thoughtful hum. “Yet, we saw how kind she was to her brother. She’s not entirely made of ice.” (Feels herself— _tense_ ). The other woman, _**Strikes**_  nerves; _hits_ — **Deep** , with little remorse. “I think;” _splashes_ ; beneath their feet, “people are rarely cruel. Only selfish.” Their eyes  _glance_. “They make their choices, and ignore how they hurt others.” Forward again. “She’s no different from any of us. No different from you.” ( _Nails_ ; into _flesh_ ). “Has her goals and does what’s necessary to complete them.”

 ** _Glowers_** ;

(—Doesn’t have anything to **_Say_** , _to it_

 **Except** :) “I don’t care either way.” **_Ruthless_**. “She’ll die, like the rest, if she gets in my way again.”

Her **and** the brother.

A beat. (Can’t  _discern_ ; the **Look**  on the other’s face). “I wonder what’s happened to them…” _Furrowed_ brows; Niko smiles: “The mother and child the innkeeper’s daughter mentioned, before we left Haria.”

Shoots her a questioning look. “You’re interested in that?”

“I can’t help feeling it’s all connected…” bends. To capture a prismatic seashell between her fingers.

“ _Why_ are you collecting those things?”

“I’m thinking of making a necklace.” Cradles it fondly. “Here’s my reasoning: If I’m as colorful as a pengyon, they’ll accept me as one of their own and be all the more susceptible to _secret hug attacks_. It’s _genius_ , Velvet— _genius_!”

…Sighs. “Still have that twisted sense of logic, I see.”

Slightly parted lips. ( ** _Insidious_** )Eyes trail to her; slow. “What did that remind you of?”

Feels: Her ears **burn**.

 _Slaps_ ; a sea slug out of Laphicet’s hand instead of answering.

 

* * *

 

“Out of the way, Laphicet.”

Quiet sobbing.

He looks to her; sorrowful. Silent. Gaze, wide and pleading.

Doesn’t **stop** walking.

“Wait!” The exorcist steps to her with angry, disbelieving eyes; trembling and red. “Have you no _compassion_?!”

Tear-laced breaths, _hiccup_ and _hitch_.

Continues— **forward**. “This isn’t up for discussion.”

“I thought you just wanted to weaken Innominat!” Unleashes: her daemon arm. “You can sever the link!” Holds it, _high_. “You don’t have to _kill_  her!”

 ** _Strikes_** —

Her arm **Doesn’t** move. Held; in a vice **_grip_**.

(Sees: spindly, black claws.)

The girl therion stares; stunned. Into silence.

“ _Let_. _Go_.”

“Stop reacting — and  _think_.” _Growls_. The grip on her tricep, **_tightens_**. “What if eating her gives more power to Innominat? The Abbey kept her alive for a reason; they went through the trouble of keeping her here. That means she’s useful—even if we don’t know ‘ _how_ ’, yet.” Their limbs, _strain_ , silently. “If not an ally—then a tool. _Use_ her. Wield her against Artorius.”

A _harsh_ draw of air—

 _Gnashes_   _teeth_ , **_fiercely_** ;

 ** _Yanks_** — her arm away to resume its descent.

The barrier flickers and dies. Sparks of light, shimmer and fade, around them.

Niko steps away; reverted arm helping the girl off the ground. “Hey,” (A smile, as if _nothing_ **_happened_** ). “Looks like you’re with us, now.” A hand to her chest. “I’m Niko; and that oh-so grouchy person behind me, who utterly Refuses to lighten-up, is Velvet.”

( _Tenses_.)

The small therion trembles, on wobbly knees; lurches forward — and bursts into tears all over again.

Velvet turns on her heel—Away. From them both.

Is greeted: by Magilou’s  _stupid face_ ; arm, poised, in an impassioned fist. “Tears did not warm the _cockles_  of her _arctic heart_ — yet, one _touch_ , from the childhood friend, _quelled_  the _mighty beast_!” (Almost; **_feels_** , her bandaged arm, **_release_** , once more…)The hand is lowered. To rest smugly on a hip. “Though, it would have been interesting to see the chummy duo, duke it out.” _Smirks_. “A hundred gald on Niko.”

Grit teeth. “I’m just curious about something Grimoirh said.” (Watches: Laphicet and the exorcist join Niko out the corner of her eye). “I can always kill this one, later.”

 

* * *

 

“You’re upset.” The path, back, is just as long(— _Longer_ ; with the oppressive air; the ominous  **Heavy**. Of their surroundings, she can’t put her finger on…). “I told you: I’ll do whatever it _takes_.”

Crosses her arms:

Doesn’t care.

(… **Does**

That annoying, little _piece_ ….)

“I’m upset when you stop thinking.” Follows; Niko’s gaze. To Laphicet, pointing out a swaying anemone to the child therion. “I’ve never stopped you before: If you had to kill her to get to Artorius—she would be dead. But. If you killed her on a whim. If you killed her to be cruel;” **hard**   **crimson**. “I think I’d hate you.” (— ** _Pain_**.)Says: **Nothing**. Stays; in **silence**. “Weren’t you the one who told me a corrupted exorcist meant the malak will follow? How do you think Eleanor would have reacted, if you killed that girl in front of her?” (A _tight_ jaw.)The gaze softens. “I also did it for you.” _Wide_ eyes — looks, to her, sharply. “I thought you might regret it.”

Both hands, _Clench_ ;

(— _Shake_ ).

“I can _handle_ it.”

(Doesn’t  **Need** — _Protection_.)

“I know you can.” Smiles. “But what’s one less regret?”

( ** _Again_**.

Can find: **Nothing**. To say—to **_It_**.)

 **Bites** a lip; and moves on.

 

* * *

 

Darkness falls over the village of Haria. Shadowy orbs, rise; gather— _quake_ — **_burst_** ; as the changed inhabitants **_paw_** the ground, and _roar_.

“ _No_!” The therion child  _wails_ , fingers arched to her cheeks in **Horror**. “What’s happening to everyone? Why are they all turning into  _monsters_?”

“Don’t look.” Eleanor covers the girl’s eyes; holds her to her chest. “Don’t look, sweetie.”

“We don’t have time for this! We need to go—now!” _Barks_ ; as she hears the exorcists’ approach, even closer. “ _Pick her up_ — drag her, if you have to!”

(Makes sure: Laphicet is _running_  ahead of her)—falls into a _sprint_.

 _Catches_ —Niko. Stock-still. **_Transfixed_**.

_Watching_

“ _Niko_!”

The other blinks — comes to herself. Nods and matches her pace.

 

* * *

 

“You all right?”

Grimaces. Sets a hand to a sturdy wooden pile supporting the dock.

(Words  _shallow_  to her own ears.)

—Of course she **_isn’t_**.

(Barely knows. What to _feel_  Herself.

Chooses: **Nothing**.)

A glance up, from creeping water; softly lapping rock at Niko's feet. A smile(—a **_snarl_** in her chest). “Humans are incredible. Don’t you think?” Gestures: to the sounds of activity, above. “Nothing stops them. Not even a village, a coast away, turned to daemons.” (Doesn’t— ** _look_** **_away_** —from the words. **_Takes_** it.)Niko looks back to the waves; the Van Eltia in the distance. “When do you think they’ll notice?”

Has no **answer**.

Silence.

(Her nails— _gouge_  wood.)

“You know,” beat; “I couldn’t help; but think of Aball.” Scoffs. “What I can remember of Aball. Less places; more feelings.” (A _smile_  she can’t  ** _Stand_**.) “I remember: Peace. I remember, being so happy. We were so _happy_.” Hands. Gather her knees close. “Everything. Was so _simple_ …”

“ _Stop_.” Her voice splinters. (Knows. It’s **Selfish** — but

 ** _Can’t_**.

 _Just_ …)

“Now. I know.” The voice— _morphs_. As if everything that came _before_ _it_ , was a **_Lie_**. “What happened that night.” **Weight**. “What happened to me.”

A harsh push of _air_.

Feels: (The same roiling _nausea_ )The ground— _sway_ , under her feet. Rock as _unstable_  as shifting sand.

A dry laugh. “It makes sense, really. It all—makes _sense_.” (Can’t; even _Look_ in her **_Direction_**.) “My heart; couldn’t take it. The Darkness won.”

(The pile, _creaks_.)

“But, isn’t it interesting? What Magilou said — about this being our ‘true’ selves. This. Is who we always _were_ , Velvet.” A breath: between  _ **Amusement**_ and _Relief_. “In a way:” _scrapes_ and _shifts_ —the sound of rising; “Isn’t becoming a daemon—becoming  _This_ — _most_   _honest_?”

“Lucus and Anabel.” **_Ground_**  out. The other blinks. “The names. Of your parents.” Wide eyes. “They. Barely tolerated me, or,” _Scowls_.

 _Pushes_  away from wood. “Especially your father.”

(Sees: **Red** — _soften_.) “Well. He sounds like a real idiot.” Those shoulders fall. “It’s. Pretty insidious. Cruel.” A _turn_  of those lips— _ **forces**_ **herself** —to witness. “Every day—I feel it slipping… Like sand." Her eyes to the ground. "All the things. That once made me human.”

 _ **Steps**_ ; toward her. “There isn’t any reason for you to feel responsible.” Velvet—Crosses her arms(to **Stabilize** herself). “Everything that happened, is on _me_.”

(It: All she can **Offer**.)

“I don’t accept that.” **Hard**. “That: ‘easiness’. Letting you take all the blame.” Sharp eyes. “You didn’t turn Kamoana into a therion. With or without her, those villagers would have met the same end—someone _else_  would be in her place.” (Listed off — like _Vindication_ …). “Choices were made: By the Abbey; by us all. And this was the result. _Our_  result.” Her lips  ** _press_**  in a harsh line. “You’re fighting an enemy who’ll stop at nothing to accomplish their goal. Then, it makes _sense_.” (‘ _Sympathy_ ’.) “You’d have to do the same.”

“— _hate_ that.” _Tightly balled fists_. Niko arcs a brow. “That, you always see—‘ _best_ ’.”

Pause.

— ** _Shift_**.

“Then, show me your worst.”

( **Feels** , herself—  _Tense_.)

The other steps: Closer. “Hey, Velvet;” Closer. “Who do you go to?” _Closer_. “How. Do you— _find release_?”

Hands; cupping either side of her face…

— ** _Slams_** , the woman. To the wall of the cliff.

( _Inches_ …)

“Is  _this_  what you _want_?”

( _Ragged pants_ )

“ _Almost_ …” _a sweet breath_. “Why are you hesitating?” Crushed flowers; tousled auburn. Niko, _arcs_ ; **drives** a knee between her legs. “Why are you afraid?”

 _Exhales_ — _sharp_ ;

 _ **Slams**_  her to rock— _again_. “Because _Nothing_ with You can be  _Simple_.”

(There—Nothing—‘ _simple_ ’, about **Her**.)

Has to stay **_Focused_**.

Has: **One**  goal.

(…With **Her**. Too easy—

_Easy_

To— ** _slip_**. Into: _Happiness_ ….)

 **Doesn’t**. **_Deserve_** —

“You're wrong.” **Crimson** **eyes** , stare calmly( **burn** and **_consume_** …). “You’ve been so adamant; so _Blunt_ ; in telling me who you're not. Not the ‘Velvet’, I knew.” White teeth. “Well?” _Hikes_  the knee Roughly(Her mind — _blanks_ ). “ _Show me_.” _Leans_ ; “Kiss me.” Fingers— _shift_ , beneath her hair; _Stroke_. The exposed skin at her back. “Kiss me before I kiss you.”

Those lips draw near.

 ** _Challenge_**.

Her heart still _pounds_

( ** _Shit_** …)

Press.

…Gone. Before she can  ** _take_** — _More_. “Coward.”

Smiles.

“ _Shut-up_.” **_Drags_** **her**   _ **forward**_ —catches: _lips_.  **Hard** and _fast_ ;

(can’t _forget_. The **_Taste_**  in her _dreams_ )

 _Thrusts_ a _tongue_. **Wields** **it** , like a _blade_.

—Until: there’s a **_Sound_**.

( _Throaty_ and **_wanting_** …)

A hand  _cups_  the mound between her thighs.

A **_Grunt_** — _strangled_ —.

 _Staggers_   _back_.

Niko smiles, slow;

Rubs. _Slick_ fingers.

( **Feels** her face  _heat_.)

“I didn’t know who you’d choose. Hoped it was me. This works too.” Licks; _Lips_ ; “But. It could be Anyone. So long. As they  _distract_  you.” A hand to the belt above her chest. “Keep you, _here_.” _Draws_. Her **_back_**. “When it becomes, too much. When you feel like you’ll  _overflow_ …” _husked_ ; “ _Come to me_.” ( _Shudders_ ). “We. Could have so much  _Fun_ , _Velvet_ ….”

Brings their mouths  _together_ — ** _Again_**

 _nips_ ;

then: Walks away.

(Doesn’t—Look Back.)

…Velvet stares( _aches_ ). The spot where she was.

(Wanted to **_Devour_** **_her_** …

Body, **_pinned_** and _gasping_ )

When—

Teeth  _crush_  her bottom lip.

(… ** _Worst_** …)

 ** _Slams_**. A  **fist**  to jagged stone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus Round! A little treat for those of you who’ve made it this far. I always found the ‘Repent, sinner!’ dialogues fun, and naturally thought on what Niko’s would be like. So, here we are:
> 
> Priest: "Come, sinner! And repent your wicked deeds."  
> Niko: "Well, with an invitation, like that…"  
> P: "You should make your tawdry misdeeds, plain, in this place. Repent, in the presence of the all-knowing, Empyreans, and gain absolution. And, you… You…" falters, "You. Have, very, pretty eyes…"  
> N: Bats lashes. "I’m glad, you've noticed."  
> P: "Yes… I… I don’t, believe, I’ve ever, seen, quite a shade, like them."  
> N: "Look deeper…"  
> P: "Yes…"  
> N: "Everyone, sees, them, a bit differently; whose, do you see?"  
> P: "My…first love's…"  
> N: An interested hum. "Tell me. What is your greatest fear?"  
> P: "…That people will see, I’m not as pious, as I would have others, believe. That the gods, I spout, others, to believe in, are only in our heads. That, there is, no, real, hope, in this world."  
> N: "And, why, do you, stay?"  
> P: "Because…" silence. "Because, without it, I’d lose all meaning."  
> N: Pats his cheek. "You were very honest."  
> P: "Wha…What?"  
> N: "Repenting your sins. I can see, you take it, very seriously. I’ll have to give it a go, next time." Smiles. "Maybe, you’ll help me?"  
> P: "Ah—yes." Frowns. "…Wait…"  
> Rokurou whistles. "Scaaaaary…"


	7. Cage

* * *

 

“ _Nikoooo_!” An arm over her shoulder. “ _Get over here_!”

“Ah,” curled lips. As she’s dragged in. “‘Drunk Rokurou’. Why, I remember you…”

“Drunk? M‘not—” _burps_. “…Yep. I’m drunk.” Holds out: two widely spaced fingers. “Jus’ a lil’ bit—not a problem. But:  _you_ ,” Niko nods; one of the fingers crooks accusingly. “Where d’you think you’re goin’? S‘party for our fancy new hideout! My favorite daemon—sh’ud be having a drink with me!”

“Save one for later? I’m trying to find — Wait;” her head tilts. “Am I, _really_ , your favorite?” Hands to both cheeks. _Honored_. “I thought it’d be Velvet, for sure…”

“Nah. She’s like…” scratches the back of his head idly, “at least number three.”

“Number two?”

“Therion bug.” Her mouth Rounds. “ _Ohhh_ …” the swordsman nods sagaciously, a hand to his chin. “I bet, you’re goin’ to Vel,” _hiccups_ , “Velvet. You  _really_  know how to handle ‘er. Makes me laugh. She’s all,” Rokurou covers his face, an attempt at ‘bashful’— _scowls_ (Has to use his **side** , to keep from doubling _over_ ). “I jus’ dice people up —” a chopping motion with his arm, “but you, you dice ‘em up and get all into their heads. Or, tha other way around.” Grins—wide. “S’amazing.”

(And even with the rampant slurring—she _senses_ : True  **admiration**.)

Smiles: “Shucks, _Rokurou_. You’re like that big brother I never wanted…”

“Then, you should kill me!” _Guffaws_. Slaps her upside the back and gulps down another portion of sake. “…Whut?” Niko stares. “Right—Velvety— _Velvet_!” Hunches in conspiratorially. “You know… she _really_ digs you. Don — Don’t tell ‘er I told you,”

“So, you may think you’re whispering right now, but you’re not…”

“—but she’s always staring at you when she thinks you won’t notice. And when she fights, she always makes sure she’s close enough to you in case something should happen.” Leans back. “You two got this crazy, ‘will they, won’t,” _hic_ , “they’. Thingy. Magi and I ‘ave a pool goin’ and ev'rything.” ( _Smirks_ )He suddenly looks around. “ _Heey_ …Where she at, anyway? S’not a party without her.”

Niko sighs. “I suppose it falls to your favorite daemon, to track her down, _drag_ her out, and force her to have fun—if it Kills you all.”

“…Wait…”

Looks over to his drinking partner. “Awfully quiet there, Kurogane.”

The suit of armor bows a nonexistent head. “Cannot. Plug. Holes. Fast enough. To retain alcohol content.”

“The struggle is real…” _pats_ ; his shoulder consolingly as more sake pools to the ground.

“ _Hup_ ;” a small grunt of effort, “And this goes—here.” Rokurou presses a rounded clay container into her arms; cool to the touch. And stoppered up securely. “Take that to 'er and tell her, ‘No,” _hic_. “no moping’.”

(Doesn’t miss — the unusual _Sharp_  in amber eyes, as he says it.)

Accepts: the offering(hears; the smooth slosh of liquid). “I wonder if it will help…” under her breath. Smiles. “You could always give this to her yourself.”

“Nope. Has to be you.”

(The words hit particularly deep, for no particular reason.) “I’d better see more than this, when I’m upset, if she’s your number three. Or: I’ll dice you up. With the head thing.”

The swordsman _smirks_ ; salutes her, with a freshly poured drink. “You won’t know what hit you.”

 _Fans_ herself with a laugh(the man: so _Interesting_ ; so **Simple** ); walks off. With gratitude and a two fingered wave.

Parts. A heavily reinforced door. And Enters:

The cold labyrinth of Titania prison.

(Has a feeling. **Knows**. _Exactly_ ; where that one, is.)

She passes hard, leaden shapes — broken by the odd, new inhabitant. The dull blue of exorcist insignia. Everything bleak and grey —

 _Lifeless_.

Abandoned cell; abandoned cell(dingy within clean hallways); harsh stone remnants of the grimmest function…

(Yet: Nothing. Compared to **that** cell.)

Climbs and turns: Deeper; deeper—following. The near tangible; course of despair… Until, feet meet the large, unforgiving grate. Welded into stone.

Spies: the smaller entrance propped; exposing the lowered ladder, below.

Niko loops the thick rope attached to the container at the crook of an elbow;

Descends. An eternity of rough metal bars.

(Silent feet; to fragmented tiles.)

Silence.

(Senses the other presence— _immediately_ )Goes. To a wall; chipped and damaged. Places a hand; to ugly, white scratches.

Used to mark days.

( _How many_ …)

Pursues—

( _Too many_ …)

until: They **stop**.

And she _Feels_ … The _Moment_

—the **Place** —so **_Brutally_** ; where hope was _lost_.

(Recalls the _Cracking_ _facade_

the drawn, recovering _breaths_ …)

When the exorcist said— _too_ much. Went— _too_ _far_ ;

 **Tried**. To preserve her world.

(What if it hadn’t been— _enough_?

When it **_Won’t_** )

Exhales. Fingers pulling away.

(This place. Can’t. Begin to describe the feeling; the  **Abyss** —the **_Chasm_** ; that echoes within.)

Silence. (The **Presence** — ** _shifts_**. _Churns_ and _coils_ , **darkly**.

 ** _Takes_**. The entire _space_ )

Doesn’t swallow her whole.

Niko paces to the far wall, opposite the ladder;

steps. Up twin ledges. To take in: Four large gashes, cleaved into stone. Reaches—out

( _Stumbles_ )

Can’t. _Touch_

The **_livid_** , _desperate_ scars….

(Doesn’t. Know. What’s more agonizing — the sight or that she doesn't cry….)

“That was a bad day.”

(No moisture to the voice)Finally. Faces the bend; where the other woman resides. Sees. That stony expression, clearly, even in murky darkness.

“Daemons were easy enough. After a while, you get used to it. Rationalize it. But; when I had to devour my first prisoner…” halts. ( ** _Oppressive_** …) “That day. I embraced the monster Artorius made.”

Sits. Next to her.

Sets; the clay vessel aside.

Then:

Nothing. For uncountable moments —

Silence.

No words. Not: Excruciating. An offer of  _Proximity_ ….

(Closes her eyes. And Imagines: What their world _would_ be

What they would. Not so broken.)

Until—

(The Presence: _lulls_. **Simmers**.) “There are days; I feel.” The sound of a tightened fist. “Like I never _left_. That everything, so far, has just been some dream. And I’m still lying here, in this pit, waiting for revenge.” A leg jostles _irritably_. “They could do that—right? Melchior could be up there, right now. _Sneering_.”

Doesn’t—break: Silence. Makes it

 **Her**   **pace.**

Hands—shove off stone and the other stands. “I would sleep here. Least amount of damage.” Pauses: at a turned over bucket, rusted and dented. “They gave me water once. As an experiment. Then they figured out I didn’t need it to live. Only malevolence.” (Feels. The **Dark** aura— _pop_ ). “I wasn’t human; but here." Grit teeth. "I wasn’t even considered an animal — _Alive_. I was a tool.” ( ** _Seethe_** ). “A means to an end.”

“You’re Velvet.” (Her voice resonates— ** _Loud_** ; after so much absence). Breathes; the name Again. **Reinforces**. “You’re alive. This is real. You survived — you’re alive; with me.” Hears: a worn  _rush_   _of_ _air_. “More than a tool. More than this.” Eyes; a stoic back. The rough cascade of hair. “They couldn’t shatter you.”

(… _In_ : _Awe_ …. She can come— **Back** —to her broken place.  **Use** _it_. To — _press_ _Forward_.

Wants. To believe. It— _Strength_. Beyond:  ** _Obsession_**.)

No words; given in response.

So—it Starts, _Anew_ :

Nothing.

(Seconds; minutes; without… Urgency.)

Silence.

“I’m fine.”

Smiles. “Why does the caged bird sing?”

Velvet turns—slate brows _pinched_ and low. Thinks. “…To live;” eyes crane; to the metal grates, above, “until it’s free.”

When those eyes fall back, Niko pats the space beside her(—gives: no indication of **wrong** or _right_ ); stares. Until the other begins to make her way back. Reaches for the cool container. “I think. We could both use this.”

Sits. “…What _is_ that?”

“A love potion.”

Hard eyes.

 _Chuckles_. Digs; in a claw and _pops_ the cork free.

A single sniff. And those brows dip further. “Rokurou.” ( _Smiles_ ,) “We’re underage.”

“…Because, as daemons, this will be the absolute _worst_ , we’ve done.” Licks; the porous back of the plug. “And you say  _my_ logic’s ‘twisted’.” The other scowls( _pouts_ ), silently. “Besides. This,” shows off the bottle, “is small potatoes. I remember,” **pause** (the words, so _precious_ …); “‘procuring’ an entire bottle of Taliesin brandy I made you drink with me.” Those(pouting)lips, _twist_ , with immediate recollection. “ _Right_? It’s all but _tradition_ , now…” places the cork, flat, on the ledge. “Rokurou sends his regards, by the way…” tilts, a smooth spout; “Did you know I’m his favorite daemon? You’re number three.” _Lets_ ; the liquid spread across her tongue; _glide_  down her throat… _Shivers_ …. Places the bottle in a bandaged hand. “You were beaten by a bug.”

(Catches; the slight… hesitation, lips to spout; before the other does the same)Swallows. “Is he your type?” Her eyebrow— _jumps_. Velvet turns; bottle set back to her lips. “Forget it.”

(Always. So _bad_ ; at hiding her feelings…)

“If he were?” That throat quivers smoothly. “Would you be jealous?” Halts. “Maybe, you’d want to join in…” Moves; again. Niko smiles. “I don’t think I’d say no; if he offered. With him, it’d just be blowing off steam.” Leans back; into stone ledge, hands on either side. “There aren’t many who take things as they are.” (Feels: the imposing aura— ** _pitch_** ). “Why are you upset?”

A tensed jaw. “Do you ‘ _like_ ’ him?”

(Doesn’t— ** _deny_** — **it**.)

Laughs, “Of course: He’s hilarious.” Glance. “Or, did you mean something else?” _Pressed_ lips; another drink. “He _is_ tall, dark, and handsome — but, so are you.” Her lips, _curl_. Witnessing—the _effect_ ; the other removing the bottle, swiftly; **angrily** wiping sake, spilled, down a chin. “Who’s  _your_ type, Velvet?”

“Don’t have one.”

“ _Hmm_ …” (savors; the **play** … The sweet  _Avoid_ ; of what happened between them….)Takes. The bottle back. Drinks and _exhales_ : “ _Dry_.”

Shrugged shoulders. “Wouldn’t know; but I can still feel the burn.” Watches. The bottle near her lips. “Like eating hot food.”

“So even without taste, you still get the effects… You  _are_  already flushed.” _Scoffs_ : Amused.  _Tilts_  the bottle again, “ _Lightweight_.”

(Surprisingly)Velvet smirks. “You don’t look affected at all.”

“I may… have an unusually high tolerance for this sort of thing? Like—entire casks of ale, Velvet.” The other stares, bemused; she waves it off. “Story for another time.” _Sighs_. “Being a daemon isn’t all fun and games. Still: No hangovers.” _Indulges_ ; once more. _Hums_. “That mellow warmth, though…” extends: both feet. Rocks them lightly, “the one that goes _all the way_ to your  _toes_. I still  _feel_  that.” Shudders and closes her eyes. “Even. If I don’t always show it,” _smiles_. “It _still_   _gets to me_ ….”

“You don’t say…” Husky syllables: dropped; a decibel lower.

(Trails a fang with her tongue, _Hungrily_ …)

“Mm.” Lowers the bottle to her lap. “You know what really gets me the most? After all this time…” Opens eyes. “I still can’t get over how _different_ you sound.”

(Like **Night** and Day.)

Beat. “…Your voice changed, too. It’s.”

“‘It’s’?” Lashes; low. “ _Hm_?”

Pink cheeks. Barely  _caught_.

Silence.

Seconds.

Minutes:

“Velvet.” The body next to her  _tightens_. She covers bandaged fingers with her own. “Is talking, enough?”

Meets: Gold orbs that _sear_  through darkness.

( **Knows** it. Feels the dark aura — **_roar_** )

Something— **she** : _Awakened_ …

(The: ‘ ** _Give In_** ’…)

Niko turns; at the waist. _Arcs_  nails into flesh. _Leans_ , “You. Smell  _Irresistible_ , right now…” —the **_Desire_** … _Hot_ ; **_Thick_**. “ _Hurry_ …” _spilled_  from her mouth; “ _Take it_.”

 _Me_.

Lets. The clay container, roll; from her fingers…

 _Clatter_ : to broken stone.

(For. Something

— **Better**.)

“ _Niko_ …” bared teeth( ** _resistance_** ).

“No.” _Plucks_ ; the cord beneath her breasts. “It doesn’t have to be more.” (Give. **_Take_**.) “I’m not doing this selflessly.” _Grins_. “ _I’ll enjoy it, too_.”

— ** _Bites_** ; an ear  _sharply_.

(A _hoarse whimper_ )Bandaged fingers  _claw_  beneath hers— ** _drag_** ; against stone… _Clench_.

 **Pound**  the ground  ** _fiercely_** —

And, so _quick_

Scooped into arms;

 ** _Shoved_** —to a wall.

“ _Velvet_ …” _gasps_. Reaches — to _touch_

 ** _Pain_**. Wrists  _bound_  above her head.

A **dark** look( ** _Savage_** ). And with only one hand, the other  _keeps her in place_.

The free hand— _parts_  slitted linen; _clutches_  her right thigh… Calloused strokes( _sighs_ )— ** _rough and selfish_** —up. And down…

—the violent  _swell_  of _lips_. Less kissing— _More_ :

 _ **Consumption**_.

 **Feels** : The **_sweet_** - _dry_ ;

(All the way to her _toes_ )…

 _Surges_   **back** — _strains_  a bottom _lip_ ; and— ** _clamps_** **down** —with a fang.

 _A broken groan_ ; a _tremor_ …. “ _Harder_.”

 _Croaked_ …

 ** _Gives_**.

(Adds: **blood** — to the medley on her tongue)

The hand coasts  _higher_ ; rounds her inner thigh

 **Freezes**.

(The same… _Hesitation_ …)

— ** _Breaks_**. The other’s hold and snatches a chin. “This. Is _nothing_ like that.”

(And that’s **All**. There—no **need** —for anything _else_.)

A— _jolt_ —to the wall; she  _arcs_  against stone… Back propped as hands  ** _grip_**  either side of her hips—

Tug; _forward_

 _Hike_. Her dress to her waist.

Velvet lifts her chin; looks  **down** (pupils _blown_ and **focused** ). _Thrusts_ —a leg between her thighs.

“ _Ride_ _it_.”

 _Smirks_. Slow.

“Well. _Someone’s_ vindictive…” Niko  _chuckles_. Chews a lip.(It feels like— ** _payback_**

Forever: The _sore_ **_loser_** …) “ _Cocky_ , _vindictive_  Velvet — so _cocky_  and _vindictive_ …”

Complies.

( _Happily_

 _Those wonderful legs_ …)

— ** _Wants_**. The other woman to **_know_** , her **Hunger** ….

 _Clasps_ (A noticeable _gulp_ ); the given thigh— _tight_ ; lowers into several practice _shifts_ … to test the range of motion…

 **Locks** eyes. Drops a hand to _wrench_ — slick fabric, aside, until—

Velvet _hisses_.

( _Flesh to flesh_ …)

Her folds, gleam, exposed.

 _Leans_ , “ _Feel that_ …?” (So much **_heat_** …) _Grinds_ ; along hard; soft muscle. “That’s _me_. _Velvet_.” Watches: Golden eyes, _flutter_. “So — _hot_ ;” _rocks_ , “ _Drenched_. For _you_.” The thigh— _bucks_ — _helpless_ … Niko pitches her head; **_growls_**  low. Positions her other hand, where it was before—claws, _released_ ; gouging bricks. “I want you to feel me.” Sets; a **fervid** _rhythm_. “ _Right to the_ _bone_ …”

(Her:

 _Liquid anticipation_ ….)

Nails  ** _pierce_**  her skin. (And there’s a **raw** , _Feral_ look — _that drives her Insane_ )

Like, the other can _barely hold the pieces_

“— _Niko_.”

No **need**.

 _Rolls_ : _hips_ —and **_takes_**. All the woman can **_Give_**.

( _Moans_ )As that thigh  _meets_ her—matches and _hastens_ her pace. The **burn** of flesh; _broken_. By intermittent strips of cloth…

Making. _Every_. **_Sensation_** ,

_unpredictable_

(Forth— _back_. Forth— _back_.)

So **Simple** — so

 _Elegant_ …

(So— _her_.)

And, she _burning up_ …

(The **_Best_** **_thing_** —)

Those eyes—Their. _**Intensity**_. How the other  _pants_ and _gasps for air_ … like the leg’s between **_her_** thighs.

(How she _wants_ — to **Take** **Her** …)

Her hips  _roll_   _faster_ …

 **Resists** ( ** _grips_**  the wall). Stays. Within her lines….

“ _Harder_ …” (Echoed) ** _Ground_**  from her throat(It not —  _inevitable_ , yet— _spilling_ ; _tumbling_ — _quaking_  from her _being_ ….)

And Velvet— ** _gives_** ** _it to her_**. _Snatches_ her _close_ ; hands sliding to grip globes of flesh — using the angle to drive her further up her thigh with every _cry_ of ' _Harder_ '. Leg _pumping_ , _**ruthlessly**_ … _So_ _wet_ ; _obscene_ sounds echo the desolate pit;

Make her _shudder_   ** _Deep_**.

(Their line—between  ** _Vicious_** and _Tender_ …)

— _swipes_ ; _clumsy_ and _rough_ , a trembling thumb. Over the bundled nub that makes her vision— _flicker_

_Bursts_

( **big** ; _**thick**_ — _Inevitable_ …) _Squeezes the High_  for _all it can give_ …

“ _Vel_ —” a brutal _pitch_  of her hips— _pushed_ —  _breathless_ and _genuine_.

Claws—

 _writhing_  above her head;

 _scoring_ ; chipped stone.

(Adding: **Her**  mark.)

Five gashes.

(‘ _You_ _didn’t_ **win** ’)

 _Breathes_ :

Rough from her nose.

Legs _shaking_ —

(Glad. For the **firm** hold.)

…Opens her eyes. Retracts; the hand between her thighs, to reach across a back— **find** ; that wonderful patch of skin… _Scratch_. **Down**  a shoulder blade…

( **Feels** : Angry  _swollen_   _welts_ — _After_ )

The body holding her, _convulses_.

Notes. How the other  _crushes_   _a lip_. And those exposed breasts, _heave_ …

“You’re _so_ _close_.” ( _Easy_ … To _return_ the _favor_ )— ** _Pushes_** ; from the wall—latches to a _neck_.  ** _Bites_**. “ _Let me touch you_ …”

(Wants it—like a physical **thing** …)

_Wants—Her_

Her hand is **Stopped**. Before it reaches its target.

“That’s _enough_.”

Shifts back. Stares:

(The hard edge of those eyes, calmer.

The aura: _Sated_.)

Relents.

(Makes it. **Her**  pace.)

“Do you feel better?”

…A dipped chin. Almost indiscernible.

Gold eyes look down, darkly.

And she:

 _Laughs_.

“Oh, _Velvet_ … You don’t think you took advantage of me? I’d say it was the other way around…” _smirks_. Fingers crumpled leaves. “You’re so _rough_ , on my poor petals…” ( _Likes_. How the other made her voice, _strained_ and _low_ …) “What do you have against my flowers, Crowe?”

Sees: turned lips(a **_blush_** , _despite_ herself).

Kisses—hungry and brief; tongues. The wound she inflicted. “It doesn’t have to be more.”

(A _falter_ … in that gaze—before it  **Hardens** , again.)

Niko slides from the leg(a lingering  _tremor_ ), straightens the folds of her dress; before reclaiming the cracked wet bottle off the ground.

(Leaves. The cork. As a testament.)

“Come back upstairs, with me?” Turns. Twines; rope around her elbow. “Believe it or not,” curled lips, “my original goal was to drag you, kicking and screaming, back to the hideout party.”

“‘Drag me’…?” A flat stare.

“If necessary.” Pauses. At the marks( **bolder**. Than all the others) she made against the wall. Raises fingers; to trace deep grooves.

“This. Was a good day.”

Velvet continues to stare; silent(—doesn’t  _Miss_ : the **Recognition**.

A  _clenched_ fist).

Niko winks; heads to the ladder.

Smiles. When calm footfalls, follow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (SO GIDDY)  
> It’s a *beautiful* find, but, in Velvet’s old cell, there are 4 large claw marks on the wall, opposite the access ladder. I ADORE details like that; little clues that tell their own story~


End file.
